


24 Days of Christmas

by SkieNight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji-centric, Alternate Universe - College/University, Bokuto is the Christmas spirit, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, holiday and winter chaos, keiji is jadded and bitter but he'll learn, so many shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 45,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkieNight/pseuds/SkieNight
Summary: “Christmas is only one day,” Keiji says, fumbling with his key, trying to get it into the lock. He should have taken off his gloves, but he’s committed to this now, and he needs to get away from that hat before he loses his mind.“But the season isn’t,” Koutarou says with a laugh.Keiji finally gets the door open and pushes it with his shoulder, throwing it into the wall. “Unfortunately,” he mumbles under his breath and he fights his way into the narrow stairwell with both his overstuffed grocery bags.“Keiji!” Koutarou squeaks as though he’s been personally offended. “Don’t tell me... you dislike Christmas!?”----Keiji has been screwed over too many times by the holiday season so this year he's swearing it off.Koutarou shows up at just the right time to try and convince him otherwise.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Kozume Kenma, Akaashi Keiji & Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji & Oikawa Tooru, Akaashi Keiji & Sugawara Koushi, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 186
Kudos: 329





	1. Sunday, December 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Ideally, this will be a collection of 24 short stories that I post once a day throughout the month of December, but we'll see how that actually turns out.   
> Anyway, please enjoy a lot of sweetness and Christmas shenanigans!

The first thing Keiji notices when he turns onto his street is the strange car parked in front of his house. The second thing he notices as he draws closer, are the boxes sitting on his porch. This doesn’t come as too much of a surprise. Tetsurou and Kenma had mentioned something about a friend of theirs staying with them through the break, Keiji just sort of expected them to move in during the break, not two weeks early. 

Not that it matters. If Kenma has agreed to this, then they couldn’t have been a bad person. Tetsurou makes some… questionable decisions on occasion, but Kenma is a good judge of character, even if he doesn't talk to people much. He has a second sense, like a cat, or so Tetsurou says - another questionable thing. Keiji just likes to believe that Kenma has good gut instincts, though he is dating and living with Tetsurou so maybe Keiji should question his logic as well.

Keiji picks his way around the boxes and drops his own bags in front of the front door to fish his keys out of his pocket with one of his gloved hands. Just as he readies himself to pick up his ridiculously heavy grocery bags again, he may have gotten carried away at Trader Joes, the door that leads to the small entryway between the duplexes flies open. 

Keiji stumbles back to avoid being hit and sends an unamused look to the perpetrator. Much to his surprise, he’s not greeted by Tetsurou’s sharp grin and ridiculous hair. Instead, he is greeted by a wide and brilliant smile and equally brilliant, golden eyes. Keiji blinks once, and then twice, trying to catch his breath and take in the tall and very,  _ very  _ broad stranger before him. He works out, he has to, with arms like those. And those  _ shoulders _ . Keiji swallows and forces his eyes back to the stranger’s face, hoping it wasn’t clear that he was just oogling.

“You must be our new neighbor,” is what Keiji finally says when he realizes how much time as passed. Too much, the answer is too much.

“Yup!” the stranger says, his smile only grows, and it’s suddenly too warm under Keiji’s sweater, coat, scarf combo. “Koutarou Bokuto.”

The stranger holds out his hand and Keiji is forced to take a moment to set his bags down once again to shake the stranger - no Koutarou’s - hand. “Keiji Akaashi,” he introduces himself and tries not to melt under the strength of the handshake. Lord he’s been single for too long, Tooru would give him so much shit for this, but in Keiji’s defense, he was expecting a new neighbor, not an  _ attractive _ new neighbor.

He takes a moment to glance at the porch roof to catch his breath. He’s focusing back on Koutarou’s face when he sees it: the white and red sitting comfortably on Koutarou’s head. Keiji blinks. How had he missed that? 

“I’m sorry, what is on your head?” The question is out before he can help himself, and sharpened with more judgment than he intended. 

If Koutarou hears it, he doesn’t mind, only laughs and pats his head like he has to remember what’s on his head. “Oh, it’s a Santa hat.”

“I know _that_ ,” Keiji mumbles, staring at the bright red hat as though it had personally offended him. Of course, he knew what it was, he knew that the moment he saw it. What he wants to know is, “Why?”

Koutarou smiles and shrugs. “Why not? It’s Christmas after all.”

Keiji stares back blankly. “It’s the first of December.”

“I know! It’s the first day of Christmas, how exciting is that!”

Keiji sighs and picks up his bag again. He walks forward, hoping Koutarou will take the hint and move, but he stays where he is, half in the doorway half in the entryway, and Keiji is forced to squeeze around him to get to his actual front door. It’s a tight squeeze, Koutarou isn’t large but he’s broad-shouldered, an athlete of sorts. Keiji ignores the way that makes his gut flutter by remembering the Santa hat.

“Christmas is only one day,” he says, fumbling with his key, trying to get it into the lock. He should have taken off his gloves, but he’s committed to this now, and he needs to get away from that hat before he loses his mind. 

“But the season isn’t,” Koutarou says with a laugh. 

Keiji finally gets the door open and pushes it with his shoulder, throwing it into the wall. “Unfortunately,” he mumbles under his breath and he fights his way into the narrow stairwell with both his overstuffed grocery bags. 

“Keiji!” Koutarou squeaks as though he’s been personally offended. “Don’t tell me... you dislike Christmas!?”

Keiji is saved from having to explain himself by a gasp and heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs. Touro’s head peers around the corner. “Do my ears deceive me or has Keiji returned with my coffee?”

“I’ve returned with groceries, your coffee is only one part of that.”

Tooru must only hear the coffee-bit because his eyes light up and he throws himself down the rest of the stairs and into Keiji’s arms. Or, on to Keiji’s arms really. He peers over Keiji’s shoulder, and Keiji can tell when he sees Koutarou because he stiffens slightly and physically perks up like a big, pesky, oversized dog.

“You’re our new neighbor!”

Koutarou laughs. “Keiji said the same thing. I’m Koutarou.”

“Tooru,” Tooru replies, reaching around Keiji’s body to shake Koutarous hand.

In this position, more of his weight is on Keiji, and as thin as Tooru is he’s all packed muscle, which isn’t light. “Get off me and help me carry these groceries upstairs.”

Tooru takes a step back but makes no move to grab one of the bags. “Why should I? My coffee is only _one_ part of your groceries.”

“A very heavy part,” Keiji says, shoving the bags into Tooru’s chest and letting go of one set of straps. 

Tooru fumbles for a moment but catches the bag with a huff. “Mean, Keiji, mean. You’re making me do all of the heavy lifting!”

Keiji rolls his eyes and glances over his shoulder, inclining his head slightly. “It was nice meeting you, Koutarou,” he says.

“You never answered my question!” Koutarou says in lieu of a goodbye 

Keiji raises an eyebrow. “What question?”

“Do you dislike Christmas?”

Keiji sighs. He had hoped they were passed this. Apparently not. He studies Koutarou’s face for a moment. Wide and expectant golden eyes blink back at him, and that stupid, red hat sits slightly lopsided on his head. He chews at his lip and chooses his words carefully, “It’s not my favorite holiday.”

Behind him, Tooru snorts. “That’s one way to put it.”

Koutarou’s attention snaps to somewhere over Keiji’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”

Keiji turns around, but Tooru must have expected this because his one free hand is already out and ready to block Keiji’s onslaught of jabs with ease. “Keiji hates Christmas, always has.”

“I don’t  _ hate _ it!” Keiji snaps, changing his tactic from trying to cover Tooru’s mouth to try to smack him.

Tooru finally catches his wrist and holds if off to the side. He tilts his head slightly to peer around Keiji. “He _strongly_ dislikes it.”

“Why?” Keiji can hear the pout in Koutarou’s words.

“It’s annoying,” Keiji says just as Tooru says, “bad memories.”

Koutarou is quiet for a moment, then asks very softly, “what bad memories could anyone have of Christmas?”

“It’s just not my season,” Keiji says, voice stern. His glare is fixed on Tooru. He doesn’t like talking about this, not with his friends and certainly not with attractive strangers he just met.

Tooru, as much as a pain in the ass as he can be, isn’t an asshole and releases Keiji’s wrist to hoist the bag up some more. He frowns at the bag and then at Keiji. “What did you buy?”

“Your coffee,” Keiji says, softer, a silent thank you for the topic change. 

Tooru rolls his eyes and turns around to head back up the stairs. “Nice meeting you, new neighbor!” he calls over his shoulders.

Keiji hoists his own bag up, getting ready to follow him into their home, but Koutarou’s voice keeps him in place. “I bet I can make it your season,” he says, with so much confidence, Keiji actually chokes on his own saliva and has to look over his shoulder to see if the other man is serious.

“What?”

When he meets Koutarou’s gaze, the happy smile is gone, replaced by pure determination and strength that does something funny to Keiji’s gut. “I bet I can make Christmas your season!” Koutarou says. He smiles at that, his eyes lighting up like he’s just thought of something that would make even Einstein jump for joy. “I bet I can make you  _ like _ Christmas.” 

He says it with such assurance and insistence, Keiji isn’t sure whether to be humored or horrified. 

Tooru decides for him by laughing, cackling really. The loud and real kind that has him snorting and hiccuping. “I would  _ pay _ you if you could get Keiji to even voluntarily listen to Christmas music. I’d buy you drinks. I’d do your laundry for an entire year!” 

“I bet I could,” Koutarou replies to Tooru, but his gaze remains on Keiji.

Keiji can feel the sweat building up in his armpits. It’s unpleasant. He really needs to take his layers off, and then turn down the thermostat, Tooru probably turned it up again while Keiji was out. “That’s unnecessary,” Keiji says stiffly. “Besides, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” Koutarou insists. “By Christmas Eve, I’ll have you singing Christmas carols and wishing the season won’t end.”

Keiji rolls his eyes at that. “Please don’t waste your efforts.”

“I won’t,” Koutarou says with a nod that only further skewed his pointy red hat. “Watch me.”

“Goodbye, Koutarou,” Keijis says with a sigh, and finally turns around to actually walk upstairs to his apartment. 

There’s a pause, and Keiji can feel the eyes on him. For a moment he wonders if Koutarou is going to try and maintain this ridiculous conversation, instead he just says, “see you later, Keiji!”

The front door finally falls shut behind Keiji, and with a sigh he starts up the stairs, trying to best to ignore Tooru’s barely contained giggles. At the top of the stairs, he drops his bag and lets out a long sigh, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes to catch his breath. He should probably start joining Tooru at the gym again, but that thought is far out of his mind, for all he can see behind his eyelids is that stupid, red and puffy Santa hat.


	2. Monday, December 2nd

Keiji is pulled from his chem studying by the constant jingle of upbeat music. He can’t quite make it out through the floorboards, but it is definitely there and just loud enough that, as hard as he might, he can’t focus on the words or the figures on the page in front of him. He glances at the clock - it’s just passed eight - and leans back in his chair. If it were any other night he would let the music go and start working on something else that he could concentrate on with music in the background, but he has just over a week and a half until his chemistry final and he’ll be damned if he fails this class.

The music continues on, excited and happy. There’s something familiar about it, but he can’t put his finger on what. It’s probably Tetsurou’s though. While he is normally a wonderful neighbor, not that Keiji would ever tell him that, he does have the habit of forgetting that even the best walls and floors let some music through. It definitely isn't Kenma. If Keiji didn’t see him walking to class every Monday and Wednesday, he wouldn’t believe the other boy lives downstairs. He rarely makes a peep. In fact, Keiji can’t think of a single time Kenma has ever made enough noise to be heard through the floor. Actually, he takes that back, there was the Great Spider Incident of 2018, but they don’t talk about that. 

With a huff, he reaches across his desk to where he tossed his phone, pulls up Tetsurou’s contact info and sends him a quick text.

_ Today 8:07pm _

To Tetsurou Kuroo

Hey, can you turn down the music a bit? I’m trying to study.

Keiji is about to put down his phone, but it buzzes in his hand. The reply is almost instantaneous. 

From Tetsurou Kuroo

Im in the lab rn so its probably Kou

I can give u his number if ud like?

To Tetsurou Kuroo

That’s fine. I’ll go ask him myself.

Thank you.

From Tetsurou Kuroo

np

He needs a break anyway, so he pushes himself off of the chair. His knees groan at the prospect of having to move and his back aches from bending over the desk. Yeah, maybe moving was a good idea. He allows himself another moment to stretch and roll his shoulders before slipping out of his room. His eyes sting as he navigates the dark hallway, past the living-dining room towards the stairs that lead down to his front door. 

The music is louder here, which is expected. Though it is still muffled through two doors he can hear the shape of words and the twinkling. It’s definitely pop of some kind. Something with a familiar tune. Maybe one of his coworkers played it at the coffee shop and that’s why he recognizes it. 

He pushes open his door, and turns to knock on the other door connected to the entryway but it’s already propped open, like someone tried to close it but never quite succeeded. This, of course, doesn’t surprise Keiji either. He lets out a breath and knocks on the door anyway, but the music is completely audible now, and at this volume there is no way Koutarou is going to hear him. And now that Keiji can hear the music, and is listening to it, he realizes what it is. With a sigh, he steps into the house.

“Christmas music, really?” he says, walking through the entryway and turning through the first open archway to peek into the living room.

Koutarou startles, nearly falling off the couch. The textbook half across his lap isn’t as lucky and crashes to the floor. Hastily, Koutarou reaches across the coffee table to turn down the speaker. He sends Keiji a small, embarrassed smile, though if that is due to the volume of the music or because of how much he was scared, Keiji is unsure.

“I didn’t hear you,” Koutarou says sheepishly, bending down to retrieve his fallen textbook, and Keiji’s eyes are drawn immediately to his hair. It had been mostly covered by his hat yesterday, but today he can see it, and it’s… a lot. He can immediately understand why he and Tetsurou and friends. They both have similar styles - if they can be called that - but something about Koutarou’s hair makes Keiji want to run his hands through it, in a way that had never been true with Tetsurou’s. 

He shakes his head, hopes it didn’t look like he was staring, and gives Koutarou a tired look. “That’s probably because you were playing your music so loudly.”

Koutarou rubs the back of his head and studies the textbook in his lap. “Sorry…”

“It’s fine,” Keiji says quickly. Though it wasn’t, not really. That was the whole point in coming down here was because it  _ wasn’t _ fine and Keiji needed to study. _Needs_ to study. But now as he’s watching Koutarou and his bright eyes and even brighter smile, he doesn’t want to upset him. He can’t explain why, but he just doesn’t. It’s probably because he’s known the guy for two days, he tells himself. He doesn’t want to leave a bad impression, doesn’t want to make him feel unwelcomed. Doesn’t want Koutarou to dislike him. 

That last thought goes unexplored and ignored. 

When Koutarou doesn’t look entirely convinced by Keiji’s words, Keiji continues, “I just… wanted to see what you were listening to. I wasn’t expecting it to be Christmas music.” Though he should have.

Koutarou smiles at that. “Didn’t you recognize it?”

“I did,” Keiji admits. “But I didn’t know why.” He pauses and takes a moment to really listen to what’s playing. It’s fun and upbeat, the words and basic tune hint at a song he knows well, but he couldn’t place the voice, or voices really. There are multiple, all twisting and slotting together like puzzle pieces, with a steady beat and no instruments that he can make out. Acapella? Interesting. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard this one.”

“But Hark the Harold is a classic!” Koutarou says with a gasp.

“No, I know the song. I’ve just never heard this version.” Keiji, in a sudden moment of daring, takes a step towards the table and the couch where Koutarou is sitting. “Who is it by?”

Koutarou’s eyes widen at that. He looks even more surprised than when Keiji said he had never heard the song before. “You  _ don’t _ know Pentatonix?”

“No…?” Keiji flushes at that. He’s never been one to keep up with new music. It’s not that he’s a music snob. In fact, quite the opposite is true, he’ll listen to almost anything, but he never looks up music on his own. He relies solely on recommendations from trusted individuals: Suga, Tetsurou, and Kiyoko, a girl in his photography class, to name a few. He takes Kenma’s recommendations with a grain of salt, though sometimes even he will admit that video game scores can be beautiful. And people like Tooru, well he ignores them altogether. 

By himself, he likely would have placed Koutarou in the last category, but there’s something that makes him want to give Koutarou the chance to put himself in the second category, which is probably why he says, “I don’t really listen to a lot of Christmas music.”

“Ever?”

Keiji shakes his head and then shrugs. He can’t bring himself to meet Koutarou’s bright and curiously golden gaze, so he looks away, at anything but the other man in the room. He studies the walls as if he’s never been in the house before. “I find it annoying.”

“It’s classic!”

“I don’t disagree,” Keiji amends softly. He can’t even bring himself to say that he dislikes it. He has such fond memories connected to so many songs, but that’s just the problem. They’re memories, things that are no longer realities. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t listen to it.”

“Not even the new stuff.”

Keiji gives Koutarou a look. “ _ That _ is repetitive and annoying.”

“No it isn’t!” Koutarou says quickly, then sits back and stares at empty space for a moment before nodding. “Well, some of it is. But not all of it. Some of it is pretty good. Let me show you! I bet I can find some songs that you like.”

“You and your bets,” Keiji mumbles, trying not to roll his eyes. He doesn’t sound as annoyed as he would like to be, but he can’t bring himself to care as he watches Koutarou’s intense focus turn to his phone. 

He studies Koutarou, with his pointed gray and black hair, and bright yellow eyes. It always seems like he has so much energy, endless energy, endless attention. And even though it’s no longer on Keiji, Keiji wants it to be. And then he thinks about the work piled on his desk upstairs, and the notes upon notes he needs to go through and organize. Thermodynamics won’t teach itself. But Koutarou looks like an excited puppy as he looks through his phone, and Keiji has been working for hours. How much more chem would he learn today? Probably not a lot. 

With another contained breath, Keiji says, “okay,” then turns and starts back towards the door.

“Oh, you’re leaving already?” Koutarou asks and sounds like a kicked puppy, which does something to Keiji’s chest. It’s annoyance, or it should be. Keiji doesn’t examine that further either. He’s done too much examining today, he needs a break. 

“I’m just going to grab my computer,” he explains as he turns back around. “I’d like to try and get some work done. I assume that’s what you were doing as well.” 

Keiji takes a moment to walk back a few steps and peer at some of the papers that are scattered across the coffee table. It’s a whole assortment of  _ things _ , the combination of equations and symbols and numbers all scribbled on top of one another and upside make it look like another language. Like some newly discovered Egyptian hieroglyphics. 

Keiji must make a face, because Koutarou laughs and looks over the papers. “It’s not that bad. Just some real analysis.”

“Not that bad?” Keiji doesn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah. It's just mathematics,” Koutarou says and he sounds way too happy about that fact. 

Keiji wrinkles his nose and asks, “But why?”

“It’s for my major?” Koutarou replies, and then must realize that they haven’t really had this conversation because he continues, “I’m a math major. What about you, what do you study?”

Keiji suddenly feels so foolish, like he always does around STEM individuals, who spend their lives bent over pages and pages of things that could eventually stop wars and end world hunger. Real things with real consequences. “I’m majoring in photography and journalism,” he says, doing his best not to speak softly or stare at the floor or look ashamed. He’s tired of looking ashamed, even if that’s how he feels. So he holds his head a bit higher, and meet’s Koutarou’s gaze with a hard look of his own. “I’m a dual degree student with the Fine Arts College.”

“That’s so cool!” Koutarou practically shouts and leans forward over the table. His eyes are so big they almost sparkle, and all at once the air in Keij’s lungs leaves. “Can I see some of your pictures?”

Keiji swallows and tries to fill his lungs, but even though they expand they feel as empty as ever. The thermostat must also be turned up, because he’s suddenly very, very hot. “I- um… sure. I have some editing to do, so let me grab my laptop and I can show you what I’m working on.”

“And I can show you some songs! It’ll be like a trade!”

Keiji is turned around, thankfully, so Koutarou can’t see his grin when he says, “yes. Yes, it will.” 

* * *

It’s a few hours and many ridiculous Christmas songs later when the door bangs open and Tetsurou walks in yelling, “Honey, I’m home!”

Koutarou yells a greeting back and is just getting out of his chair from under the mountains of books he has sprawled across his lap when Tetsurou peers in from around the corner. His eyes light up, and he opens his mouth to say something, but then his gaze meets Keiji’s, and he looks between Keiji and the speaker rapidly.

Keiji realizes then that the Christmas music is still playing, it’s softer now, not just for the consideration of upstairs neighbors, Suga and Tooru both got home about an hour ago, but also because he and Koutarou had been talking. A lot. About everything and anything. Frankly, Keiji had forgotten music was even playing, which was probably why the Christmas songs had continued for as long as they did.

He opens his mouth to tell Tetsurou as much, or at least shut him up, but Tetsurou is already looking over his shoulder. “Kenma, get your cute ass over here.”

“What is it Kuro?” comes Kenma’s soft reply from somewhere by the entryway. He sounds tired, and then Keiji remembers that his last comp problem set is due on Thursday and that’s probably why.

“Keiji is listening to Christmas music!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Keiji says with a sigh, and decides that he does likely have a sighing problem, but he also now apparently has a Christmas Problem - at least according to Tooru - so it can just be added to the end of his ever-growing list of problems he should probably deal with but definitely won't.

“But you hate Christmas music!” Tetsurou insists.

“I don’t  _ hate _ it,” Keiji corrects, rising from the comfortable indent he had made into the couch. He turns to Koutarou, a smile slipping across his lips before he can even help it. “I really should be going. It’s getting rather late. This was… nice.”

Koutarou’s face breaks into the most brilliant grin, and Keiji turns quickly to avoid it, though he can still feel the eyes on his back as he walked away. He greets Tetsurou and Kenma in equal measure, before slipping out of the house. 

And if he’s whistling We Wish You a Merry Christmas as he goes up the stairs, well, that’s just another problem to add to the list.


	3. Tuesday, December 3rd

Tuesdays and Thursdays are Keiji’s favorite days. With only one class in the morning, at 10:30 - the only reasonable time for a morning class - and then work in the afternoon at the on-campus gallery, Tuesdays and Thursdays are a breeze. They’re easy, they’re relaxing, and they’re free of chemistry, which Keiji feels is essential to any good day. 

He closes the gallery these days, which is also probably his favorite shift. He loves moving through the familiar twists and turns, passing familiar paintings, with only the soft click of his shoes against squeaky-clean hardwood to accompany him. It’s peaceful in a way that home is not. Which isn’t to say that he dislikes his home. No, he loves living with Suga and Tooru. It’s never a dull moment with the two of them, and he can say with full confidence that they know him better than anyone else on this planet. 

But they thrive off of talking to people. Hell, if Tooru doesn’t talk to anyone for even a day, he’s whiney, and mopy, and as clingy as a five-year-old. Suga isn’t nearly as bad. He doesn’t need to talk or even need attention. He just needs to coexist. Keiji can respect that, he can respect Tooru too, and all his lovable, needy attention-seeking ways, but Keiji isn’t like them. He doesn’t  _ need _ people. What he needs is space, and closing up the gallery gives him that. 

He finishes his walkthrough, though it wasn’t like there would be anyone in the gallery at 7pm on the last Tuesday of the semester, he hasn’t seen anyone come in for at least an hour and a half. But it’s protocol and gives Keiji an excuse to stretch his legs. He locks the back door, throws on his coat, and turns on the alarm as he leaves. Once the entrance is locked up he’s free to go. 

Sometimes after closing, he’ll take the long, meandering road home, going down small paths, and cutting around the track field to watch the runners and the football team train. But it’s too cold now - both for walking and for attractive men in tights to be wrestling each other for a ball - so he cuts through a field, and heads home directly where he can make some tea and try to feel his nose again. He’s never done well in this weather.

All the lights are on in the house, illuminating the sidewalk and the stairs up to the porch. Keiji pulls open the door and steps into the small entryway, his backpack slung under his arm as he fishes for his keys in the smallest outside pocket when the door to the downstairs apartment flies open. 

“Keiji!” Koutarou’s voice is too loud and too large for such a small space.

Keiji flinches and his keys slip between his fingers falling onto the floor. Keiji stares at them as if they have personally offended him. After a moment he looks back to Koutarou and says, “I suppose I deserved that after yesterday.”

Before he has a chance to pick up his keys, Koutarou bends down and grabs them, holding them out, his smile as blinding as ever. Keiji plucks the keys from his fingers carefully as to not brush Koutarou’s hand, and steps around Koutarou. Or tries to. Keiji is reminded, once again, how large Koutarou is as he leans against the wall to reach his door.

“Can I help you?” Keiji asks as he wiggles the key and jiggles the lock until there’s finally a click and the door pops open.

“Yes!” Koutarou says, too loudly for being so close. “Here.”

Keiji glances over his shoulder and is met with a jug just inches from his face. He blinks and takes a step back to actually look at the jug of mysterious liquid, which happens to be eggnog. Keiji doesn’t know whether Koutarou wants him to take the eggnog or not so he doesn’t, just looks passed the too-large jug to the man holding it out. “What is this for exactly?”

“You, to help you get into the season.”

Keiji looks the jug over. It’s massive, at least a gallon, and Keiji’s stomach turns. He’s never had eggnog and he isn’t sure he wants to have it, but it’s rude to turn away gifts and Koutarou has that damn too-excited expression. Keiji lets out a quiet breath, turns and says, “that’s a lot for one person. Come up and drink some with me.”

At the top of the stairs, Keiji kicks off his shoes and crosses into the living room to get to the kitchen. Tooru is splayed over the couch, glasses perched on his nose as he reads some science book - Keiji stopped trying to follow which courses he was taking. Suga is curled in the battered green armchair that matches none of the other furniture in the room, a mug balanced on one knee, a book balanced on the other. He glances up as they enter, smiling at Keiji and then raising an eyebrow as Koutarou follows him in.

He eyes the jug of eggnog suspiciously. His distaste clear across his face. “What are you two up to?”

Before Keiji can respond, Koutarou pipes in loud and enthusiastic as ever, “I’m making Keiji experience the Holiday Spirit.”

Suga turns his neatly raised eyebrow to Keiji. “With eggnog?”

Keiji nods solemnly. “With eggnog.”

There is a beat and then Suga snaps his book closed, places his half-drunk tea on the small side table and stands up. “Well, count me in. I haven’t had eggnog in years!”

Keiji gives Suga a small smile, thankful for the moral support if nothing else. As they turn and start migrating towards the kitchen, a loud thump echos through the apartment and shakes the floor under them. “Wait! Why is Koushi invited to the eggnog party but I’m not?” Tooru asks with a pout. 

Keiji gives Tooru an unamused look. “Shouldn’t you be studying for…” he glances at the textbook on the floor but it had fallen cover down. 

Tooru waves Keiji away as he stands. “It’s P-chem. P-chem is  _ easy _ .” 

“Wasn’t that the midterm you almost failed?” Keiji asks as he sets down his keys and slips off his backpack. 

“If I tell myself it’s easy, it’s easy,” Tooru replies, as he settles beside Keiji and throws an arm over his shoulder. With anyone else, Keiji would have rolled them off or moved before they could drape themselves over him, but it’s Tooru and Tooru functions under a different set of rules than almost anyone. 

They walk into the kitchen as a small hoard. Koutarou practically buzzes with excitement as he sets the eggnog down on the counter beside the stovetop. Suga is already pulling down mugs from the cabinets, and a small pot. 

“What’s that for?” Koutarou asks.

“Don’t you serve eggnog warm?” Suga inquires, inspecting the packaging as if that would provide answers.

Koutarou shrugs. “I don’t know, I’ve never had eggnog before.”

“And yet you’re making me drink it?” Keiji shoots him a doubtful look. 

“It’s part of the holiday spirit!” Koutarou exclaims. “Christmas music didn’t work, so maybe drinks will.”

Keiji shakes his head, as he helps Suga steady the massive jug as they pour some of it into the pot. “Why are you so obsessed with this?” He doesn’t mean to ask it, or maybe he does. But he doesn’t mean for Koutarou to hear it.

“Because everyone should have a wonderful time during the holidays,” Koutarou says so surely, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like it’s the same as two plus two equaling four. 

Well, not everyone does. The words are on the tip of Keiji’s tongue, but when he looks up and meets those bright, excited eyes he can’t bring himself to say it, so he doesn’t and looks at the floor instead. In the corner of his eye, he can see Suga watching him with a bemused expression and sends Suga a quick glare.

They serve the eggnog once it starts bubbling, which it does after about eight minutes or so. In those eight minutes, Tooru and Koutarou fell into conversation about some mathematical concept that neither Keiji nor Suga could follow, so they just hovered around the stove whispering themselves about the gallery and their final paper for their multicultural postcolonialism literature class. Once the eggnog starts bubbling they turn off the stove, put some in each cup and stand in a small circle, looking to one another anxiously.

“To not failing our exams,” Tooru says, lifting his mug to cheer.

They clink mugs, smile at each other, and take a sip. 

Tooru breaks instantly. Eggnog is on the floor as is his entire mug, which slipped out of his fingers. He doesn’t seem to care about the cracked glass or the mess he made and instead focuses more on running to the sink and dunking his head under the running faucet. Suga deals with the terrible taste much more calmly, Keiji almost can’t tell how much he hates it, except that his face is scrunched as though he had just taken a bite out of a lemon.

Keiji can’t say he’s faring much better. Eggnog simply isn’t good. When he looks at the size of the jug on the table he feels nauseated and puts his mug down as well. He turns to apologize to Koutarou - for what, he doesn’t know, he just feels bad - until he sees the face Koutarou is making. It’s not good. 

For a moment they just stare at each other, and then Koutarou asks quietly, “so… do you feel the holiday spirit?

From under the faucet, Tooru giggles and then chokes on water.

Keiji looks from the jug on the table to the mess scattered over the floor. “I really can’t say I do.” Koutarou deflates almost instantaneously like someone just let the air out of a balloon. “But I do appreciate the effort I just… don’t like eggnog.”

“Sorry,” Koutarou mumbles. He crosses the kitchen, reaching to grab what looks to be the eggnog.

Keiji moves before he thinks or can stop himself. He grabs Koutarous’s wrist as he walks passed and says, “Stay, please. We’re ordering pizza.” They’re not, or they weren’t, but it looks like they are now. Keiji doesn’t even know why he said it, but anything sounds better than drinking more eggnog.

Suga, looking all too smug, turns to look at the shattered mug still on the floor. “We should probably clean this up.”

“I can,” Koutarou pipes up instantly. “After all it’s my-”

“That’s not necessary,” Keiji says, giving Koutarou’s wrist a squeeze. Keiji looks from his hand to Koutarou’s unreadable expression and drops his wrist completely. 

“No,” Suga says, cutting off any more of Koutarou’s insistence. “Tooru is cleaning up, the rest of us are figuring out what pizza to order. Besides, we need to wash that eggnog down somehow.” 

When Koutarou glances to Keiji looking for confirmation, Keiji nods, and just like that the brilliant smile is back, and all thoughts of terrible eggnog are gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I have a bias against eggnog. No, I am not sorry.


	4. Wednesday, December 4th

The cold wind nips at him and the two cups Keiji has tucked carefully in the nooks of his arms. Carrying hot chocolate in frigid winter temperatures is an ancient and delicate art form that Keiji has spent the last four years perfecting once he settled into his job at the on-campus coffee shop. 

Last night had ended amicably enough, with the four of them sitting on the floor eating pizza all while bitching about final exams and papers and expectations. But Keiji still has some remaining guilt over the eggnog, which they poured down the drain while discussing their plans for winter break. Keiji isn’t going home, he hasn’t since coming to college, since his parents had said “we support you, son” and “we don’t want to cause any family drama” in the same breath. Tooru would be going back the week after Christmas to visit his family, and Suga would be spending the break in the city with his long-term boyfriend, Daichi. Koutarou, like Keiji, isn’t going home. And also like Keiji, wouldn’t give a straight answer as to why. Not that they tried to push him into answering. Some things are private. Keiji, of all people, understands that.

What he doesn’t understand is this damn weather. If it is going to be really-fucking-cold he expects snow at the least. But no, it’s just cold and a little bit windy and slightly damp, like the air is hinting at snow but doesn’t actually want to commit to going through with it. It chews at him, clawing into his skin, and trying to pull off his ears and cut off his nose. Winter is the one time of year when Keiji wonders why he chose to cross the entire continent of North America to go to school. But then he remembers his parents, and their tight smiles and disapproving gazes and a little winter cold doesn’t seem so bad anymore. 

He braces himself against another gust of wind and turns onto his street. He hurries forward, hot chocolates tucked against his arms. They’re going to get cold, which is the exact opposite of what they’re supposed to be, and after failing with the eggnog he’d rather not fail again. He isn’t running but he is hurrying. Anything to get out of the cold and keep the hot chocolate hot. 

He knows running - or walking quickly - is a bad decision in this weather, and is reminded of such when the ground turns slick under his feet, and his center of gravity shifts suddenly. And then he’s on the ground, ass aching and embarrassment warming his cheeks. He hasn’t whipped out like that in almost two years. He’s usually better about keeping an eye open for black ice. But apparently, all that is forgotten once hot chocolate enters the picture. 

The hot chocolate.

His attention drops to the ground. One cup is down for the count, it’s contents spilled over the sidewalk and slowly freezing. The other is still pressed against his side. A little splashed out of the lid, but it appears no worse for the wear. He’s careful to pick himself up in a way that doesn’t spill any more of the drink, and takes the last few steps and the stairs up the front porch slowly, freezing every time he feels the slick of ice under his shoes.

He makes it to the door and through the door without incident. In the dim light of the tiny entryway, he gives himself a look over. He doesn’t need to see to know that his backside is covered in whatever ice, leaves, and gunk was on the ground, he can feel it soaking through his jeans. In the light, he does, however, notice that his left thigh is covered in hot - lukewarm really - chocolate, and frowns at the second cup, wondering if it’s even worth it. But then Koutarou’s disappointed look from last night flashes across his eyelids and guilt threatens to eat him from the inside out, so he turns and knocks on the door to the downstairs duplex before he can think too hard.

“It’s open!” a muffled voice yells from inside. 

Keiji knew that would be the case, he’d just hoped it wouldn’t. Hoped that Koutarou would answer the door so that Keiji could pass off the hot chocolate and be done with it. Instead, he takes a centering breath and pushes the door open. 

Koutarou, Tetsurou, and Kenma are all curled up in the living room. Koutarou is at the small table, math book open in front of him but his attention on his phone. Tetsurou is sprawled on the couch reading, Kenma tucked in his lap on his computer, either playing a game or coding, it’s impossible to tell. Koutarou is the first to look up, and smiles when he sees it’s Keiji.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he greets.

Keiji smiles and inclines his head, he waves to Tetsurou who looks up and gives him a long look over.

“What happened to you?” Tetsurou asks, and Keiji flinches.

“I… slipped,” he says, and hates the way his cheeks heat up upon admitting that. 

“No way? You ate shit? Oh my god,” Tetsurou gapes and starts cackling. “I can’t wait to tell Tooru that you were the first one to wipe out this winter!”

Keiji sighs and hangs his head. “Please don’t.”

“He’s gonna be so happy that it wasn’t him this year!”

“He’s never going to let me forget it,” Keiji mumbles.

“He’ll _never_ let you forget it!” Tetsurou cheers. 

“Kuro, stop moving so much, it’s annoying,” Kenma says, eyes never leaving his computer. Gaming it is then.

Tetsurou stills instantly, and wraps his hands around his boyfriend's middle, giggling into Kenma’s shoulder as he sings, “Keiji ate shit! Keiji ate shit!”

Keiji rolls his eyes and looks to Koutarou who’s grinning wildly and doing a terrible job of hiding his own chuckles. “It’s not that funny.”

“It kind of is,” Koutarou says. “I can’t imagine you not being composed and graceful.”

That warms Keiji’s cheeks too, but he chooses to ignore it, because he is, in fact, neither of those things, but if Koutarou believes that he is, he’s not going to correct him. He’ll realize how wrong he is out soon enough. 

“What did you come in for? Just dropping in to say hello and tell us about your fall?” Tetsurou asks.

Keiji blinks, then looks down at the lukewarm drink in his hand and glances to Koutarou who is watching him with a still amused, but not also curious, expression. He should have just drank his own shitty hot chocolate and moved on, but it’s too late for that now. He’s made his choice and he’s committed to it, and Keiji doesn’t back out of commitments. So he marches forward and places the hot chocolate down on the table in front of Koutarou with probably a little too much force but he doesn’t let himself think about that. 

Koutarou looks questioningly at Keiji, then at the cup, then at Keiji again. 

“For yesterday,” Keiji explains, his words heavy on his tongue, heat climbing up his cheeks and onto his face, but once he starts talking, it's like the floodgates open. “For the eggnog you gave us. I figured I’d get you hot chocolate. In return. Well, it was hot chocolate, it’s not any more, I don’t think. It’s quite cold outside, which made the chocolate… cold.” Keiji shuts his mouth so quickly his teeth clatter together and ache in the back of his head, but it’s better than rambling like he was just doing. What is wrong with him today? It was the fall, it had to be the fall throwing him off. 

Koutarou blinks at him and then quickly grabs the hot chocolate and takes a large sip. It’s quiet for a moment and then he smiles. “Thanks, Keiji. It’s really good!”

All of the pressure on Keiji’s chest releases all at once, and he lets go of the breathe he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’m… glad,” he says and hovers around the table for a few seconds before realizing what he’s doing and taking a quick step back. He looks around the room, suddenly aware of Tetsurou’s eyes on him. “I should go. Sorry for bothering you all, I hope you have a good rest of your night.”

“Wait!” A warm hand wraps around Keiji's wrist holding him in place. When Keiji looks over his shoulder he’s bet with Koutarou’s wide, golden eyes, so large they seem to be glowing. “There’s extra chicken and rice on the stove. If you’d like some.”

Keiji lets out a carefully controlled breath and nods, because it isn’t like he can really say no to that, now can he?


	5. Thursday, December 5th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to my fave - Akaashi Keiji! This one (and this entire fic, really) is for him <3

Keiji is curled in his room when Koutarou bursts through the door. He’s alone, having gotten home before both Suga and Tooru because the gallery closed early today. He isn’t expecting Bokuto, but he still hears him burst in and charge up the stairs. He closes his chem textbook, he wishes he could say reluctantly, and makes his way out of his room.

Koutarou is standing at the top of the stairs with a box in hand, glancing around the mostly dark and empty house like he broke in and now doesn’t know what to do. Keiji doesn’t step into the light, just leans against the hallway wall and says, “can I help you?” 

Koutarou jumps and turns around, his eyes widening as he sees Keiji. For a moment, Keiji holds his breath, expecting yelling or maybe even singing, but all Koutarou says is, “I didn’t think anyone was home.”

Disappointed isn’t the right word, neither is surprised, it wasn’t like he told Koutarou what today was. If anything, he’s a little relieved to be spared the embarrassment of song and attention, so he keeps himself composed and raises one eyebrow as he pushes himself off of the wall to walk toward the other man. “And you still came up?”

Koutarou shrugs sheepishly. “The door was unlocked. I was just going to leave this and go.”

“And what exactly is  _ this _ ?” Keiji asks, eyeing the box with the suspicious he should have had for the eggnog. Either Koutarou knows about today or this is another terrible idea, and Keiji isn't sure which was worse. 

“A gingerbread house!” Koutarou says with an amazing amount of confidence considering how the last two days have gone. “I figured you’re an artist, you like making things. So this is food you can make!”

“It’s already made,” Keiji corrects and then, before Koutarou’s tell-tale disappointed frown takes place, amends, “But we can put them together.”

Koutarou’s eyes light up and his grin widens so much and so quickly that Keiji worries it will split his face. He can’t figure out what made Koutarou look like that - to be fair, it could be almost anything - until he remembers what he had said. He really needs to study. His chem final exam is in eight days, but he’s been studying all afternoon, a break and some gingerbread won’t kill him. Besides, it’s a special day, he deserves to treat himself, or so Tooru had been telling him all day. 

Which is how he finds himself, sitting on the floor around his coffee table trying to use crappy frosting to connect two gingerbread walls to a gingerbread floor. Their crafts are everywhere. Koutarou had, of course, purchased the largest gingerbread house building kit he could find which meant that it was for an army of small children and not two twenty-somethings avoiding responsibility. Not that Keiji will complain. 

He has almost gotten all four walls of his home in place when the front door opens and an indistinguishable number of footsteps start up the stairs. “Keiji,” Tooru’s sing-song yell echos through the house, and Keiji’s stomach drops. Who knows what that voice could mean and what surprises are on the way. “I found a stray cat outside and figured I’d bring it in and feed it.”

“You know how our landlord feels about pets,” Keiji calls back, calmly. Maybe Tooru would listen to him this year and not make today a big deal. 

Koutarou sits up, straining over his shoulders, likely expecting an actual cat, which is probably why he’s slightly disappointed when Tetsurou peeks his head into the living room. “Oh damn, gingerbread houses! I haven’t made one of these in forever.” He throws down his backpack and races across the room, skidding to a step and dropping to sit next to Koutarou. 

The table shakes, but Keiji balances and saves his gingerbread house from falling.

“Gingerbread?” comes Suga’s voice from the entryway. He pads in slowly, Kenma beside him, though the other boy is too wrapped up in his switch to pay any attention to the sweets sprawled over the table. 

Suga takes a seat next to Keiji and briefly kisses his cheek before pulling over pieces of gingerbread, while Kenma tucks himself beside Tetsurou, never looking up from his game. Keiji continues balancing the walls of his house and lets out a breath. Maybe he was worried about nothing. 

Tooru is the last one to enter. He pauses in the doorway, his eyes wide, and then squeals, “Gingerbread? What a cute birthday activity, Keiji!” before throwing himself across the room and into Keiji’s arms. Keiji is forced to let go of his almost stable gingerbread house, to catch the overgrown five-year-old. Tooru nuzzles into his neck and squeezes every drop of air from Keiji’s lungs, holding him there until just before Keiji passes out. He pulls away, beaming. “I didn’t think you were going to do anything for your birthday this year."

Keiji starts to say, “I wasn’t-”

But is cut off by Tooru’s continuous ramblings. “I’m so happy you’re finally taking the time to celebrate yourself! And gingerbread is such a cute and festive idea. Suga and I have some gifts for you, but we can give them to you later. Just relax right now. Happy birthday, Keiji!” 

“Wait, It’s your birthday?” Koutarou yells, and everyone around the table freezes to look at him and then at Keiji.

Slowly, Keiji nods. With all the attention in the room, now on him, he can begin to feel himself warm. He’s sure his entire face is red, which just makes him more embarrassed, but something cools when he finally looks up at Koutarou and realizes that he isn’t angry, but embarrassed himself. 

“I… didn’t know…” Koutarou says quietly.

Keiji looks across the table, over his demolished gingerbread him, and smiles, smally but surely. “I don’t really tell people, so don’t worry about it. But if you’re worried about gifts, you already gave me the gingerbread houses.”

“I did!” Koutarou replies, shocked like he had actually forgotten this entire thing was his idea. 

Tooru and Suga are back in his space, one on each shoulder grinning. Keiji doesn’t need to see them to know that. “Keiji is terrible about telling people about his birthday,” Tooru says. 

“Yup!” Suga agrees. “We found out our Freshman year when we were all eating breakfast together. Not because Keiji told us, but because Tooru was on facebook and saw a notification for it.”

“So don’t mind him,” Tooru says, petting Keiji’s head like he’s an animal or a small child. “He’s just embarrassed easily.”

Suga nods excitedly. “Which mean…”

The two make eye contact and Keiji’s stomach drops. “No, don’t,” he says quickly. "We don’t need the entire street to know that-”

The two smile and open their mouths, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!” It doesn’t take long for the whole room to join into Suga and Tooru’s song - though it isn’t really a song, just a bunch of completely sober young adults yelling at random pitches at the top of their lungs - and Keiji buries his face in his hands to hide his blush and the grin that’s threatening to break his face in two. 

Once he collects himself, Suga and Tooru present their gifts, and Kenma and Tetsurou give him theirs, things calm down some, and people go back to focusing on the task at hand: gingerbread. They don’t work in silence, but they aren’t yelling either. The conversation is nice, and warm, and calm. 

Keiji finally gets his house to balance, and starts to decorate the windows and the doors. Suga’s looks like it could be placed in the Museum of Fine Arts with it’s swirling designs and candy cane edges. Koutarou has given up on making his own house and just reaches across the table to add random candies to Keiji’s, which is less annoying than it sounds because if Keiji doesn’t like a placement he just eats the candy and moves on. Tetsurou’s house isn’t a house just a pile of sweets he occasionally feeds to Kenma, who continues to play his switch.

It’s a nice night, a warm night, the kind that almost makes Keiji forget that he's twenty-two now and tomorrow is their last day of classes for the semester and then they have a week of finals and then they move on to their last semester of college. All terrifying thoughts individually, but nearly incapacitating when put together, so it's a good thing Keiji isn’t thinking about it. 

He looks around the table, at Tetsurou talking softly to Kenma, who has put down the game in favor of stealing sweets. At Suga and Tooru who are practically on top of him as they bitch about some history professor they both have and hate, and then to Koutarou who is watching Keiji was the smallest, and softest smile Keiji has ever seen him wear, and it does something to Keiji’s chest, he just doesn’t know what.

Keiji checks his face for any frosting he might have missed or stray grains of sugar, but his mouth and cheeks are clean. He raises an eyebrow and looks to Koutarou. “What?” he asks softly, more mouthing the question than actually trying to speak over Suga and Tooru.

Koutarou shakes his head. “Nothing, nothing.” And then his grin grows, and Keiji knows something is up.

“Really?” he doesn’t sound convinced.

Koutarou studies him for a second like he isn’t quite sure what to say before his grin is back to being obnoxiously large and bright. “You’re having a good time.”

“So?”

“So, you’re enjoying the holiday season,” Koutarou says with too much pride.

“I’m enjoying spending time with my friends,” Keiji says a bit too defensively. “Activity and time of year aren’t really counted in that.”

“But that’s the  _ point _ of the holiday season! To spend time with loved ones.”

Keiji rolls his eyes. “That’s the point of any holiday, e _ specially _ birthdays.” Koutarou makes a frustrated noise, but he doesn’t seem upset, his eyes gleam and his grin is large as ever so Keiji doesn’t back down from his defensive position. “Besides, holiday music still sucks.”

Koutarou gapes like he’s been personally offended. “Take that back.”

“No,” Keiji says and tries - and fails - to fight the grin sliding across his lips.

Koutarou throws the first gumdrop, but Keiji throws the second, and it descends into madness from there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: the story Suga tells about how he and Tooru found out about Keiji's birthday is based closely on how my friends at university found out about my birthday because I was too awkward to tell them about it myself and I knew they liked to throw surprise parties and wanted to avoid that. Jokes on me though, because when they found out they broke out into song in the dining hall, and I have never been so embarrassed in my life


	6. Friday, December 6th

After spending the better part of two hours cleaning up from The Great Gumball War of 2019, and then having to get up early for chemistry at 9:30am, which is too early for any class nevertheless a science class, Keiji is exhausted by the time he gets home that afternoon. He partly blames the shenanigans from last night but also the semester as a whole. It has been long. Too long. If Keiji could sleep for a hundred years, he would. 

But sleep isn’t an option, with finals starting Monday, he has projects to finish - or start - papers to write, and exams to study for. It’s the final push. One more week and then he can curl up in bed and not move for the rest of the month. 

Of course, other people have other ideas for what they want Keiji to do. 

He’s curled up in the living room, assembling his final portfolio for his advanced journalism class, when his front door creaks open and a “hey, hey hey” echoes through the apartment. 

Keiji doesn’t look up from his work. He’s so close to finishing this portfolio. It’s due Monday, but if he can turn it in early it’s one less thing to do. So when he hears Koutarou reach the top of the stairs he simply says, “let me finish this.”

For a moment, he’s worried that came across as rude - Suga and Tooru can attest that he gets bitchy when he’s stressed - but Koutarou just whispers something that sounds like “okay” and settles in the ugly armchair in the corner of the room. So maybe he wasn’t as bitchy as he thought he’d been. Another breath and the room settles into silence, broken only by the clicks of Keiji’s keyboard as he edits, tweaks words, and rearranges sentences until his portfolio is something he’s happy with turning in - saying he’s proud would be pushing it a bit too far. 

Keiji shuts his laptop with a sigh and sinks into the couch once he presses send and takes a few deep and steady breaths. One thing off his list, and there’s nothing to replace it. He’s done with one class. Amazing. 

He’s so lost in relishing the weight of one responsibility lifting off his shoulders, he almost forgets Koutarou is there entirely until the other man says softly, “have you finished?”

Keiji’s eyes widen and he sits up, suddenly warm at the prospect of Koutarou seeing him so relaxed and open. He blinks at the man watching him from the armchair and tries to compose himself. “I… yes, I am. Sorry about that.”

“No, no!” And just like that Koutarou’s overly loud voice is back, and Keiji wonders if he was ever quiet to begin with. “It’s okay! You were in the zone, you have a lot of work to do.”

“Yes, something like that.” Keiji nods stiffly, and it’s at that moment that Keiji sees the box sitting by Koutarou’s feet. “Please tell me that’s not more gingerbread. Because that was nice yesterday but it made such a mess-”

“It’s not! It’s… well…” Koutarou opens the box and holds it out as an answer. 

Keiji inches closer, peers inside, and then looks up at Koutarou. “Decorations?” He doesn’t mean to sound so incredulous, really, but buying a gingerbread kit is one thing, buying someone a house full of decorations is something entirely different. 

“Tetsu and I had leftovers, and I figured the reason you weren’t in the holiday spirit was because your house is so boring!”

Keiji frowns. “It’s not boring,” he mumbles, looking around the livingroom self-consciously, but even he can admit that the walls suddenly seem too empty. “Well, maybe it could use some lights.”

Koutarou cheers and promptly drops the box, running back over to his bag. Before Keiji can ask, Koutarou pulls out a small speaker and props it up on the bookshelf. He turns to Keiji, eyes bright with excitement. “We can’t decorate without music! What’s your favorite Christmas carol?”

Keiji has never done well under sudden and unexpected attention, especially with seemingly simple questions like these; questions that shouldn’t have a right answer, but always do. The problem is that everyone else seems to always know what that answer is, and Keiji never does. “We’ve gone over this,” he says as calmly as he can, hoping he doesn’t look as overwhelmed as he feels. “I don’t listen to Christmas music.”

“But you did,” Koutarou says simply, naturally, like he knows it to be true even if he had never been told. 

Keiji suddenly wonders what other things Koutarou had figured out. His heart pounds at the thought. Was he that easy to read?

When Keiji doesn’t respond, Koutarou continues, softer though not softly, “What’s the first Christmas song that comes to your mind?”

Suddenly every Christmas song Keiji has ever heard leaves his mind, even the ones he knows that he once sang around the piano with his parents. He thinks back to that first day, or the second really, when he had gone down to reprimand Koutarou for playing music too loud and instead had found himself curled on the couch talking and listening to carols he hadn’t listened in three years. 

“That first one,” Keiji says suddenly. Koutarou gives him a puzzled look, and Keiji can’t really blame him for the confusion so he tries to elaborate. “It was when I came down to ask you about the music on Monday. You were playing it and it was a version I hadn’t heard before? Of Hark the Herald I think? And it might have been acapella…” He honestly can’t remember the song itself or the group, just that something about five voices moving together intrigued him.

After a moment Koutarou’s eyes widen and he furiously looks through his phone. And then the first words and chords cut through the otherwise quiet house and Keiji is drawn back into the easy connection the voices have with each other. He gives Koutarou a small smile, a thanks for finding the song, for bringing the decorations, for what exactly he doesn’t know, but he thanks him anyway. Koutarou beams back.

There’s a whole assortment of things in the box, from a ratty, wreath that hangs crooked on the door, to string lights that they hang across the edges of the room, draping them artfully over the windows, and evenly, hopefully, otherwise he’ll get an earful from Tooru. 

They’re sorting through some garland when a teasing voice asks from the doorway, “Shouldn’t you both be studying for finals?”

Keiji looks up, meets Suga’s eyes, and shrugs. “Koutarou thought our house was boring. Besides, I finished my portfolio and turned it in. Have you?”

“I did not call it boring!” Koutarou wines beside him.

Keiji keeps his face a careful neutral as he responds, “You did. You called is ‘ _ so  _ boring _ ’ _ and blamed it for my lack of Christmas spirit.”

“One of the reasons,” Koutarou mumbles under his breath, but when Keiji looks at him - just to make sure he isn’t actually upset because an upset Koutarou isn’t pleasant to be around - he is fighting, and failing, to keep a smile off of his lips. That does something funny to Keiji’s stomach, or maybe he’s just hungry, it  _ is _ getting close to dinner. 

When turns turned to look back at Suga, Suga is standing in the doorway wearing his usual sickeningly sweet grin, like he knows something that Keiji doesn’t.

“Cute,” he mouths to Keiji. And if Keiji didn't need him to pay a third of the monthly rent, he would have pushed Suga down the stairs. 

Instead, Keiji glares and hopes that gets his message across.

It must have, or maybe Suga has other ways to sense Keiji’s murderous desires, because he nods to Koutarou, comments on how much he liked the music choice, which only causes Koutarou to smile more, and adds that they should play some Mariah Carey before turning and vanishing down the hallway and presumably in his room.

“What was that about?” Koutarou asks once Suga was gone.

“He’s just a jerk,” Keiji mumbles, turning back to their pile of now partly-untangled garland. 

He starts pulling at the portions that are still knotted, working the knots and tangles out slowly. He tugs at one patch of green, but instead of just loosening, he pulls the greenery apart entirely. He stares at the broken piece of garland for a moment before realizing that what is in his hand isn’t garland. Garland normally doesn’t have berries or is tied together with a messy red ribbon. 

Mistletoe. 

Keiji hasn’t seen it in years. Two years to be exact. As he stares at the sorry little plant, his stomach turns and his mouth sours. Boiling anger floods through his veins and swarms his vision. 

“Keiji?” Koutarou’s voice breaks through the angry haze that had filled his head. 

Keiji shakes the rest of his anger away and drops the now crushed mistletoe next to him. He turns to Koutarou, expression carefully tailored as the music in the background swells and insists that people come together and rock around the Christmas tree. “Nothing, sorry. Will you help me put the garland up over the door?”

Koutarou studies him for another second, but he either doesn’t find what he was looking for or decides it isn’t something important because his smile is back and blinding as ever. All at once Keiji anger at the past is forgotten, and something akin to excitement for the future bubbles in his gut as he stands.


	7. Saturday, December 7th

“Keiji!” Koutarou yells as he throws open the door to Keij’s room.

Keiji startles so badly that the chemistry book on his bed bounces and he has to launch himself off the side of his bed to catch his laptop before it crashes against the wooden floor. He hadn’t heard Koutarou enter the house, much less walk to his room. He hangs half off his bed for a moment, laptop in hand, trying to catch his breath. 

“Please make more noise  _ before _ you do that,” Keiji says, pulling himself back onto his bed awkwardly. He never thought he’d see the day where he told Kutarou to make  _ more _ noise, but there's a first for everything. 

“Sorry,” Koutarou laughs, rubbing the back of his head.

Now that he’s sitting up, Keiji takes a long look at Koutarou. He’s wearing a long-sleeved turtleneck that stretches across his chest and hugs his biceps deliciously. And his dark jeans fit his legs perfectly, not too tight or too loose, though there really isn’t anything that could be too tight. Keiji blinks and shakes himself out of his fantasies, turning his attention back to his books and now messed up notes. “What can I help you with?” he asks, wishing he suddenly had a bottle of water next to his bed. When had his mouth gotten so dry?

“I want to take you out!” Koutarou declares.

Maybe it’s a good thing Keiji didn’t have water because he definitely would have choked. “I’m sorry?” he asks and immediately hates how his voice breaks around the words.

Thankfully Koutarou doesn’t seem to notice Keiji’s floundering and just keeps talking, “Tetsu and Kenma are heading out to the tree lighting that’s happening in the square, and I figured you had locked yourself in your room all day and needed to get out.”

Keiji looks down at his baggy sweats and ratty, moth-eaten shirt. He can’t really argue against that, and going out would be nice, but if Tetsurou and Kenma were going then it was definitely a date night event, and while Keiji would love to get back into the dating pool - Tooru would probably love it too - he just can’t. Not during winter. He’s been there, done that. It didn’t work out, and he’s not stupid enough to repeat past mistakes. 

So when he turns to Koutarou he gives him a tired look and says, “I’d love to join you, but I really should study some more.”

Koutarou watches him for a moment before giving a resounding “nope!” Before Keiji can react, Koutarou sweeps his textbook, notes, and laptop off his bed. “I’m holding these hostage until after you come with me to the tree lighting ceremony.”

Keiji’s eyebrow does the annoying twitch thing it’s apt to do when he’s truly exasperated, but when he meets Koutarou he realizes he’d be going against pure determination and solid muscle and decides that the path of least resistance is to agree. They won’t even have to stay long, just until the tree is light up and some choir sings a song or two.

“Fine,” Keiji mumbles.

“Yes!” Koutarou cheers and tosses Keiji’s books and papers and laptop back onto his bed. He lunges and grabs Keiji’s wrist. “Let’s go!”

Keiji yanks his hand free “I need to change first,” he snaps and then sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Wait in the hallway, I’ll be out in a few.”

“Okay! Tetsu said he and Kenma would be leaving at six.”

Keiji glances at the clock hanging on his wall. That gave him five minutes. Annoying, but doable. At least he wouldn’t have time to second guess his outfit. “Great,” he says, crossing the room to open his door. “Now get out so I can change.”

Eleven minutes later the four of them are leaving the house. Koutarou had needed to change shoes, and it took Tetsu another five minutes to convince Kenma to leave his switch at home. He won by convincing Kenma that the damp air would be bad for it. 

Thirty minutes later they’re in the square. All the streets are closed and it’s overflowing with people. The trees lining the streets are lit with golden lights, and the shop windows are shimmering with holiday decorations. The only tree not lit was the large pine in the center of the square. 

Overall, it’s bright and festive and loud, but pretty in its own way. Keiji can’t remember ever going to the tree lighting ceremony before. He knows that Suga went with Daichi last year, or maybe the year before? He can’t remember when exactly, but it happened at some point in time. He can see why they went - and remembers why he didn’t - couples are everywhere, linked together by their hands, or arms, or mouths. Its sickeningly sweet, and suddenly he’s aware of the man standing next to him who is decidedly _not_ his date, and yet still asked him out anyway. Was Koutarou even aware of the implications? He had to be, right?

“Keiji, I wanna get closer!” Koutarou announces suddenly at Keiji’s side.

“I think we’re gonna stay here, but have fun you two,” Tetsurou says, one arm wrapped around Kenma’s waist. That would make sense, Kenma’s never been the biggest fan of crowds. Keiji’s honestly surprised that Tetsurou convinced Kenma to come out at all, then again, even if he won’t say it, there are a lot of things Kenma would do for Tetsurou, including stepping out of his comfort zone.

Keiji turns and is about to try and convince Koutarou that staying at the edge of the crowd is far better for everyone, but then a large hand is grabbing his own and who is Keiji to fight it? He follows Koutarou through the crowd and eventually locks their fingers together so that they don’t get separated in the throng of bodies. For someone so large, Koutarou is a master of moving through crowds and is incredibly polite about it too. 

The closer they get to the tree, the more crowded it is, but they eventually find a little bubble around one of the public drinking fountains.

“So, do you feel it yet?” Koutarou asks too loudly, even amongst the crowd.

Keiji raises an eyebrow. “Feel what?”

“The Christmas spirit!”

Keiji looks around, taking in the large cluster of people, and the heat caused by such. The lights are beautiful, but he can’t bring himself to admit that, so he turns to Koutarou and says with a nonchalant shrug, “Not really.” When Koutarou gapes at him he smirks and continues, “there’s no snow.”

Koutarou groans and his expression falls. Keiji’s stomach drops. This is why he doesn’t joke with people he doesn’t know well, they don’t get his dry humor and end up thinking he’s an asshole. He’s about to apologize when Koutarou turns to him, studies him for a moment, and his eyes light up, “wait… you  _ do _ feel the Christmas spirit!”

“I don’t,” Keiji insists.

“You do!” Koutarou throws an arm around him. “It didn’t even take until the 24 th , it just took a week! Who knew you’d be so easy, Keiji.”

Keiji flushes at the implication and realizes with horror that Koutarou has no idea this entire evening could be misconstrued as a date. He decides that he’s not going to deal with that, or with the arm suddenly around his shoulder. Instead, he elbows Koutarou lightly in the side and rolls his eyes. “You haven’t made me _like_ Christmas yet, though,” Keiji says. “And I really don’t feel the ‘Christmas spirit’ or whatever you’re calling it.”

“You’re not?” Koutarou asks more quietly. He doesn’t sound or look disappointed, he looks contemplative, like he’s trying to figure something out or understand a difficult math problem.

Keiji shakes his head. “I don’t. There’re still seventeen days for things to go wrong.”

Koutarou squeezes his shoulder and pulls him closer to his side. “Don’t talk like that!”

“It’s the truth,” Keiji says with an awkward shrug that just pushes him into more of Koutarou’s space.

Koutarou stares down at him and says, “well, then I’ll be here to make sure that the next seventeen are the best you could possibly have.” 

Keiji swallows. His heart pounds in his ears, drowning out the chatter of the crowds. It’s so loud he worries that Koutarou can hear it, though he knows that physically that is impossible, the thought does cross his mind. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Doesn’t know how to feel. How to tell Koutarou that he’s not the first person to promise that, and won’t be the first person to break that promise either. 

But before he can even get a simple thank you out, Koutarou is shaking him. “Look, look, it’s starting!”

Keiji’s attention is pulled forward, and the tree blazes to life. Keiji can't say feels the Christmas spirit, but this is the closest he’s gotten in years. 

* * *

It’s close to eleven by the time he tiptoes up the stairs of his duplex. The lights are on in the living room, and he tries to slip by it without drawing attention to himself but Tooru’s voice stops him in his tracks. “So, Keiji, how was your date?”

“It wasn’t a date!” Keiji snaps before he can think better of rising to Tooru’s bait.

Tooru cackles on the couch. Beside him, Suga smiles sweetly, too sweetly. “You looked very cozy.”

He looked? Keiji blinks. It takes him a moment too long to understand what Suga is hinting at, but when he does his face goes scarlet. Even his ears burn. “That’s… it’s not what you think.”

“I know,” Suga says, sing-song and giggly. “Daichi and I still thought you looked adorable.”

Great. That’s just… great. “Thanks,” Keiji says, exhaling slowly. Suga is a little tipsy, but even if he wasn’t he’d still give Keiji shit. Keiji honestly brought this upon himself when he went out to a tree lighting ceremony of all things.

“I can’t believe our little Keiji went out on a date without telling us!” Toru exclaims, dramatically leaning into Suga, one hand on his forehead. “They grow up so fast.”

Keiji rolls his eyes. “Are you done yet?”

“He’s so young!” Tooru fake sobs into Suga’s shoulder. “But he’s already flying the nest, meeting new birds to make his own nest with.”

“Nest? Really?” 

Tooru opens his mouth, then seems to actually think about what comes out of his mouth and sits up with a half-shrug, “I was improvising.”

“Stick to premed,” Keiji replies dryly. 

Tooru rolls his eyes. “You wound me! You shouldn’t be so bitchy after a date, you looked like you had a good time.”

Keiji’s eyebrows end up in his hair. “ _ You _ were there?”

Tooru snorts. “No, _ I _ was working, but Koushi was and he showed me the cutest picture he took of the two of the two of you.”

“You what?” Keiji says darkly, slowly turning to Suga. 

Suga holds up his hands . “I’m sorry! You two were just too cute, I couldn’t help it. It’s not bad, and I won’t post it anywhere.”

“I don’t care,” Keiji snaps and then takes a steadying breath. He isn’t sure why he’s so hot or worked up about this. It feels out of character like the ground isn’t quite level under his feet. “Just… please delete it.”

“I will, I will,” Suga says with all seriousness, and Keiji believes him because he knows that Suga would never hold this over his head or do anything to make anyone uncomfortable. “Do you wanna see it before I do?”

‘Yes’ sits right at the tip of Keiji’s tongue. Instead, he shakes his head. “No, I’m good. Night you two,” he says and turns to start down the hallway to his room.

“Goodnight Keiji!” Tooru and Suga call after him.

A few minutes later, after he’s showed and changed for bed, he checks his phone. He has two messages. The first is from Koutarou.

_ Today 11:05pm _

From Koutarou Bokuto

I had a really good time tonight!

I hope u did too

And that u got the break u needed

To Koutarou Bokuto

I had a good time too. Thank you for taking me.

From Koutarou Bokuto

OF COURSE!

YOUR WELCOME

Keiji smiled at his phone.

To Koutarou Bokuto

Goodnight, Koutarou.

From Koutarou Bokuto

Goodnight Keiji!!!!

Keiji switches chats. The second person to text him was Suga from just a few minutes ago. 

_ Today 11:11pm _

From Suga 💜

I deleted it from my phone, but figured I’d give you the option of keeping it or not

I think it’s cute 😘

Maybe I should go into photography as well 🤔

From Suga 💜

[Image Attached]

Keiji stares at the photo and slowly sinks into his bed. It must have been taken when Koutarou was teasing him about the Christmas spirit because his arm is thrown over Keiji’s shoulder pulling them impossibly close. Koutarou’s eyes are crinkled closed and his smile is large and bright, even in the photo, it’s blinding. Half of Keiji’s face is hidden behind Koutarou’s arm, but what is visible are his ears - clearly red - and his eyes, which glisten under the golden light and are wrinkled at the corner. 

Keiji swallows around nothing, his heart in his throat. This is ridiculous. He opens Suga’s message again. 

To Suga 💜

You used the wrong exposure and your overall composition could use some work. 

Grade: C-

From Suga 💜

You’re a tough grader Keiji 😩😭

It’s a good thing you don’t wanna be a teacher

I still passed though 😋

To Suga 💜

Barely

From Suga 💜

So… 👀 are you keeping the picture?

To Suga 💜

Good night Suga

From Suga 💜

The betrayal!

Good night Keiji! 💕

Keiji chews on his lip, frowning at his screen. He can see Suga’s sugar-sweet smile in the living room right now if he thinks hard enough, and Tooru is no doubt looking over his shoulder. Keiji scrolls back to the picture and stares at it. He wasn’t wrong, the composition is horrendous and the exposure is completely off, but something about the photo makes his gut flutter. He hovers over it and saves it to his camera roll before tossing his phone to the side and crawling into bed.


	8. Sunday, December 8th

“You need more decorations,” Koutarou says from his place laying sprawled across the couch. His legs are kicked up on one armrest and his head is resting on the other. Across his chest is an assortment of papers all covered in the same scribbled handwriting. The jumbled numbers and letters and symbols make Keiji’s head spin.

Keiji doesn’t look up from his textbook, merely hums and says, “I think we have enough, Koutarou. Get back to work.”

“I’m serious, Keiji.” There’s a rustling sound of papers, which likely means that Koutarou is moving about. Keiji still doesn’t look up. “It should be a crime for you not to have decorations up eight days into the Christmas seasons.”

“We have them up,” Keiji says, carefully, measuredly, scribbling down something about alkenes. “You helped put them up.”

There’s a moment of silence and Keiji releases a breath and actually thinks that he’s managed to shut down the conversation. But right before Keiji can dive back into his riveting chemistry studying, Koutarou announced loudly, “It’s not enough.” There’s another beat and then, “you need a tree.”

Keiji shakes his head, weights the options of reply or answering, and ultimately decides that answering would end the conversation faster than not replying, so Keiji asks, “And where will we get a tree?”

“There’s this place I saw driving back from my internship that’s selling them,” Koutarou explains, and Keiji regrets responding immediately. He opened the floodgates and now there is no way he’d ever close them “We should go there. We’d use my car of course. I wonder what sized tree we should get? Oh! We can go today and look around and-”

“No,” Keiji says sternly, looking up from his work. He doesn’t particularly like cutting people off when they’re talking but this has gone far enough. He meets Koutarou’s golden eyes and ignores the fluttering in his chest when Koutarou frowns. “We’re not going today,  _ or _ tomorrow. You may not need to study for finals, but I do.”

Koutarou has that kicked puppy look, and Keiji’s gut sinks to his feet. He  _ hates _ the kicked puppy look. He sighs and chews at the end of the pencil in his hand. They really can’t go today. Keiji still needs to edit some photos for his final project, hell he needs to take some photos for his final project, and he needs to study for chemistry, he will not have a repeat of last fall, he can’t afford to, not with graduation and scholarship on the line. 

But Koutarou looks smaller and smaller on the couch, so Keiji sighs and says, “We can’t go today, I really do need to work. But, if you want to go after our exams on Friday I might have the energy then.”

And just like that Koutarou is wide-eyed and excited all over again. “Really?”

Keiji knows that once he makes this commitment he can’t back out, but there’s something in him that’s a little excited to go. As a reward for finals of course, not because he loves to bask in the brightness of Koutarou’s smiles. “Really.”

“That’s great!” Koutarou cheers, and for a moment Keiji is scared he’s going to launch himself off of the couch but he doesn’t, thankfully. Instead, he sits up fully and looks around the room again. Just as Keiji is about to return to his work, Koutarou says, “you still need more decorations.”

“Koutarou, for the last time we don’t-”

“I’m not saying go out and buy them,” Koutarou amends quickly. “But we could make them! My siblings and I make them every year to hang in the windows.”

So that’s what this was about, Keiji kicks himself for not realizing it sooner. Koutarou has been pretty open about his family life. Keiji knows he has three younger siblings, a sister and a set of twins, and that Koutarou loves them very dearly. What Keiji doesn’t know is why Koutarou is here and not with them, but Koutarou has never asked about Keiji’s family so Keiji isn’t about to ask about his. They might be close but they’re not  _ that _ close. 

Keiji ignores the tug of his heart at the thought. It’s the truth, and to simply put it Keiji isn’t that close with many people. Suga and Tooru are really the only people who know the whole story, and that was only because the three of them got much too high their sophomore year and ended up telling each other a whole host of things they wouldn't have had they been of a more sober mindset. 

He glances at the clock in the top corner of his laptop. He and Koutarou had been studying all afternoon, and Keiji had been working even before then, so maybe they were due for a break. With a yawn and a stretch, Keiji closes his laptop and pushes his papers aside. “Alright.”

Koutarou looks up from his notes, eyes wide and smile excited. If he had dog ears and a tail, they would be pointed and wagging. “Alright?”

“Let’s make some decorations,” Keiji says.

Koutarou stares at him a moment as though he has grown two heads, and then his smile doubles and Keiji almost as to look away for fear he’ll be blinded. Koutarou jumps up from the couch, notes and practice exams lay forgotten at his feet. “Yes! Let’s make some decorations.” He takes a confident step forward and then stops and turns to Keiji sheepishly. “Where are the paper and scissors?”

Keiji rises much more carefully from his seat on the armchair. “Don’t worry, I’ll grab them.”

He does and they begin. 

When Koutarou said he had done this every year with his siblings, Keiji had believed him, he just hadn’t believed he’d be good. But he is, good that is. Even though his hands are too large for the scissors and his entire being radiates clumsiness sometimes, his snowflakes are delicate and detailed, smoothly cut and while maybe not natural-looking, still beautiful in their own way. Keiji looks at the pile of his own snowflakes and frowns. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have to make anything for photography he just has to see things.

His phone buzzes in his pocket once and then a second time before he fishes it out to see what’s up.

_ Today 5:34pm _

From ✨#1 HouseMate ✨💯🏳️🌈

Picking up thai on my way home from work

The usuals?

  
  


From Suga 💜

Daichi and I are eating out tonight

But save me a fortune cookie yeah?

To ✨#1 HouseMate ✨💯🏳️🌈 & Suga 💜

Yes please.

From ✨#1 HouseMate ✨💯🏳️🌈

👍🏻

Keiji pauses his typing and looks across the table to where Koutarou is hunched over, cutting careful circles out of another snowflake to make some new pattern that Keiji has likely never seen before. 

To ✨#1 HouseMate ✨💯🏳️🌈 & Suga 💜

Make that two orders please. I’ll venmo you for the second.

From ✨#1 HouseMate ✨💯🏳️🌈

Oh? 😏

You got it!! 

And don’t worry about it, dinner's on me 😉

To ✨#1 HouseMate ✨💯🏳️🌈 & Suga 💜

Thank you.

Keiji rolls his eyes and goes to set his phone down. When he looks up, Koutarou is unfolding his snowflake so slowly and delicately, like it's something so precious. It’s peaceful and serene, and Koutarou is so in his own bubble it’s like he’s unaware of the world around him. Before Keiji can think his phone is back up, but this time with the camera is open, and he takes the picture before he overthinks it. 


	9. Monday, December 9th

Keiji is thankful he doesn’t have an actual test on the first day of exams, that doesn’t mean, of course, that he has nothing to do. In fact, he has an entire photography portfolio to edit by the end of the week. This shouldn’t be a problem, he’d been slowly working through two USBs worth of photos, editing and deleting as needed. But last night it had become a problem. 

One computer crash and no backups later, Keiji was down approximately five photos, which doesn’t sound terrible except that it hadn’t taken some twenty-plus photos to get those five photos. His original is model long gone - Tooru has his anatomy final today and then his p-chem final in two days so Keiji doesn’t really want to bother him - he’s forced to find another one. Thankfully, Koutarou proves to be like any college student, easily bribed with the promise of free food. 

Taking photos on a frigid afternoon is not how Keiji wants to send his time, but it’s what has to happen. His fingers are freezing because he can’t wear gloves while working with his camera, but the fear and anxiety coursing through his body are more than enough to warm him.

“What are your Christmas plans?” Koutarou asks as Keiji looks between one bench and another, trying to find which has the best light.

“We already talked about this,” Keiji says, kneeling on the cold, frozen ground. He motions Koutarou onto the bench on the far left. “I’m staying here. You’re staying here. We’re all staying here, except for Tooru, but he’s staying here through the twenty-sixth. Shift left slightly, good.”

“I’m mean your actual plans for Christmas day,” Kouarou says, sitting on the bench, one leg tapping away mindlessly.

“Stay still,” Keiji hisses. Koutarou does, watching him wordlessly with impossible golden eyes. While he might not complain as Tooru tends to, Keiji finds his unrelenting focus harder to deal with. He isn’t used to being watched, he’s used to doing the watching. He ignores it as best he can and focuses on his pictures.

Only when he sits back to look through what he captured does Koutaoru sit up and start talking again. “Well?”

“Well, what?” Keiji says, never looking up from his camera. He’s sure he’s being a brat, but he’s too stressed to care. He still has chem looming over his head, and his final English essay and this portfolio, all due Friday, all demanding more attention than he can possibly give them. But he’s not failing any exams this year.

“Christmas plans?”

Keiji sighs. “I don’t know. Staying in bed, sleeping in, reading, pretending it’s just another day of break.”

“Aww come on, you must do something with someone.”

“I don’t really have a someone,” Keiji mumbled.

“Tooru and Suga?” Koutarou asks. Keiji can feel the heaviness of his curious gaze.

“Suga will spend the day with his boyfriend and his family, Daichi grew up about two hours north of here. And Hajime is coming in some time next week, so Tooru will probably spend the day dragging him around town,” Keiji says. 

He doesn’t mean to sound bitter, and he isn’t. He’s perfectly happy that his both of his housemates are in happy and healthy relationships, and it isn’t that Keiji necessarily wants that - though he wouldn’t complain.  But sometimes, especially around this time of year, it’s hard to forget that two years ago the three of them would have gone out together on a triple date, and now, well, that’s not possible. And Keiji is done being sad about it. He was sad about it for too long, but sometimes he thinks about it and just gets angry. Not because he can’t do that anymore, but because those memories with Suga and Tooru from his Freshman and Sophomore years will always be slightly tainted with someone else’s presence.

Keiji lets out a breath. He’s only getting upset about this now because he’s already upset. Truthfully, he doesn’t care anymore. Not really. He blinks down at his camera, he’s been staring at the same picture for a good minute now but hasn’t really looked at it, and asks softly, “what are your plans.”

There’s a pause and then Koutarou replies, equally softly, “I don’t know. I’ll probably skype my family but we haven’t talked about it yet.” 

The silence that falls between them isn’t thick or heavy. It’s like any other silence, noticeable, but comfortable, and yet Keiji wants to break it. He’s never been someone who pushes too deeply or tries to get into other people’s business. Even with Suga and Tooru, he knows they’ll come to him if they have things to say. He never has to ask too many questions. But something about Koutarou’s distant look and large but slightly dimmed smile makes Keiji want to ask.

Instead, he seals his lips tighter and keeps his attention on the photos. Flipping through them quickly, discarding the ones he knows he can’t keep and keeping the ones that have some semblance of hope. They aren’t his best, at this rate they’re not going to be but they’re something. 

He stops at one, his finger hovering over the delete button. Koutarou is looking intently at the camera, just over it really. His eyes are wide and catch the light, making them shine even more golden than they normally do. Keiji can’t use the picture, not with Koutarou looking right at the camera, at him. But Keiji can’t bring himself to delete it. It’s something in Koutarou’s gaze as he looks at off-camera, Keiji isn’t sure what it is. But he wants to.

The real, not-in-a-picture, Koutarou is talking to him. Keiji can hear his voice but can’t quite focus on the words. It’s something about a party, and Keiji hums to pretend that he’s listening. Eventually, he presses the next button and looks up at Koutarou whose eyes are no less gold, but now Keiji can read the emotions in them, mainly the curiosity. 

“Well, what do you think? It’ll be so much fun!” Koutarou says excitedly, nodding his head.

Keiji blinks. Party. Fun. Agreement. Keiji can vaguely put the pieces together, but he doesn’t want to get involved in any potential party plans. He doesn’t like going to parties, never has. Even with Suga and Tooru at his side, he’s always found okay at best and unrelentingly horrid at worst, but he can’t say that of course, not without disappointing Koutarou and potentially revealing that he doesn’t entirely know what they were supposed to be talking about. So instead, he nods and says dismissively, “talk to Tooru and Suga about it.”

Koutarou’s eyes light up. “Okay!”

“Now can you sit at the other bench and turn away from me slightly,” Keiji says, and Koutarou complies instantly. 

He’s going to forget about whatever party plans he has by the time they get back to their duplexes, so Keiji isn’t worried. What he is worried about is this damn project, so he focuses back on the picture he’s shaping in front of him and tries not to get too distracted by the curve of Koutarou’s arm or the dips in his cheeks when he smiles.


	10. Tuesday, December 10th

Like any good, East Coast college student from California, the first snow always excites Keiji. While they had gotten a little bit of snow in November, this is the first snow to stick. And stick it did. All eight and a half inches of it. In most cities, such a quick and wild winter storm might have been considered a small blizzard and shut things down, but the Northeast wasn’t like that, or so Keiji has learned over his three and a half years here. While public schools are closed, the university stayed open, much to the chagrin of both the students and the teachers. 

Another thing Keiji has learned over his time on the east coast, especially living off-campus, is that shoveling snow might be his least favorite thing to do. Dishes, fine, fun actually. Laundry, easy because he can study while waiting for things to dry. Even cleaning the bathroom is better than shoveling, because at least he’s warm while he’s on his knees scrubbing the shower floor. But with shoveling snow, he’s freezing cold  _ and _ he sweats. He doesn’t know how both are possible simultaneously, but they are, and Keiji hates it.

He tosses another shovel full of ice and snow off the sidewalk as more falls from the sky and takes its place. He lets out a breath, watching the warm air from his lungs dissipate into the cold around him, and then returns to his shoveling. They’re going to have to shovel again in a few hours, but if he can prevent even a little bit of ice build-up he will. 

“Keiji, what’cha doing?” Koutarou calls as he meanders down the sidewalk, ungloved hands swinging freely at his side. Koutarou has referred to himself as a furnace before, and Keiji believes it. Where he needs at least three layers on before he even steps outside, Koutarou can put on a thin long-sleeved shirt and his well-worn winter coat - unzipped! - and be fine. It’s all the muscle, it has to be. That’s the only explanation.

Keiji snorts in annoyance, and in lieu of an answer holds up the shovel before returning to his work. “How was your math exam?” Keiji asks as he continues his shoveling.

“Easy enough,” Koutarou replies, crunching through the snow that Keiji hasn’t yet shoveled off the sidewalk. “How long have you been at it?”

“Fifteen minutes? I don’t know,” Keiji says. He hasn’t been keeping track. He didn’t want to study for chem, but he did want to do something vaguely productive so clearing the sidewalk seemed like a good place to start.

“You know it’s only going to snow more,” Koutarou says.

“If it builds up it’s harder to shovel later, and more dangerous,” Keiji replies. 

Koutarou hums. In the corner of his eye, he watches Koutarou put his bag down on the front porch before wandering over and back down the steps, which Keiji had already cleared of snow. For a moment, Koutarou stands on the top stairs, just outside of the roof's cover, looking up at the gray sky. Snow falls around him silently, sticking to his wild hair, landing on his cheeks and dusting his eyelashes. 

Keiji’s fingers itch for his camera. 

He turns his attention back to shoveling. It’s not particularly strenuous, though the repetitive motions don’t feel great on his back. If he doesn’t think too hard about it and pushes forward he’ll be fine. There’s some plodding on the porch, Keiji assumes that Koutarou has gone inside to unpack and unwind, which is part of the reason why the sudden blast of slushy cold on the back of his head surprises him so much. 

Keiji lifts a hand and runs it through the now damp hair on the back of his head. His fingers come away icy. He turns around slowly to see Koutarou on the bottom step cackling. “I got you!” Koutarou cheers. “You didn’t expect it at all. You were just shoveling and work and then bam. I got you, right in the back of the head.”

As Koutarou rambles on, laughing and giggling to himself, Keiji bends down slowly, grabbing an oversized handful of snow from the shovel. He packets it together, not too tightly so that it will hurt, but enough that it’ll stick together. He finds his target, aims, and throws. The snowball sails through the air, and smacks Koutarou’s chest as he’s mid-laugh. 

He stutters and looks down at the damp spot on his shirt. When he looks up, his smile widens and his eyes shine bright and daring. Keiji’s eyes widen and he drops the shovel as Koutarou reaches for another clump of snow. Keiji throws himself behind the nearest tree as a snowball flies past his ear. 

Keiji stays tucked behind his tree, only peering out around the trunk to toss a snowball at Koutarou, who has taken claim of the porch. It isn’t long before Keiji can no longer feel his fingers, and melted ice drips down his neck and into his shirt. He’s freezing, but he keeps packing snow together as though his life depends on it. 

He ducks out from the safety of his tree. A snowball clips his shoulder as he tosses his own, but Koutarou is expecting it. Just as he ducks out of the way, the door to the house opens and Suga steps out onto the patio. The snowball sails in a perfect arch through the air and collides, equally perfectly, with Suga’s cheek. He stands frozen for a moment, eyes narrowing on Keiji, and at that moment Keiji knows he’s a dead man. 

“You’re on,” Suga says. Keiji can’t hear him over Koutarou’s laughter, but he can read the movement of his lips and ducks behind the tree. 

Suga is more daring than Koutarou and runs off the porch giggling like a small child as he’s assaulted with snowballs from both sides. The next time Keiji peers out from behind his tree, Suga is there, snow in hand. He tackles Keiji into the nearest snowbank stuffing snow down his shirt and pushing it through his hair. 

Much to his own embarrassment, Keiji squeals at the chilly slush disappears down the front of his shirt. Keiji grabs a handful of snow and shoves it up Suga’s shirt before pushing the other boy off him and into the snowbank. He sits up, shaking snow off of himself, and looks to Suga who’s still lying in the snow, laughing breathlessly. 

“Ugh, I’ve missed this!” Suga says, flopping around like a fish out of water. He looks like he’s trying to make a snow angel, but he’s half lying on a bank, half lying on the mostly-cleared sidewalk, so it isn’t very effective. 

Keiji laughs and rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother to try and hide the smile crossing his lips. Their front door opens again and Keiji looks up. Tetsurou stands in the door, looking between, Koutarou who is still hiding on the porch and Keiji and Suga who are sitting in snow. 

“I heard screaming and wanted to make sure no one was getting murdered outside of our home,” he gives them long looks over feigning annoyance, but Keiji can see the amused grin sneaking across his lips. “I can see now that it’s just a bunch of toddlers.”

Suga laughs and continues to flop around in the snow, Keiji shrugs, and Koutarou raises his arm, snow in hand. Tetsurou turns to him quickly. “If you throw that you’re sleeping outside,” he warns and Koutarou lets the snowball drop onto the porch with a frown. 

Suga sits up then, brown eyes wide and bright. He turns to Keiji, his child-like grin turning impish. Keiji readies himself for something, he doesn’t know what. Normally, when Suga gets like this, it’s because of Tooru. When he gets like this by himself, he either needs to be talked down from a terrible idea or is about to say something absolutely brilliant.

“Let’s prank Tooru,” Suga says, and Keiji’s own grin sharpens. Absolutely brilliant. 

“Yes,” Keiji says and turns to Koutarou and Tetsurou. “You two in?”

Koutarou is staring at Keiji with something akin to amazement mixed with a slight bit of terror, Tetsurou’s Cheshire-cat grin only grows. “Oh yes.”

The plan is simple. The set up takes a little bit more time, especially because they can’t help but toss snow at one another, but it isn’t too long before Tooru is walking down the street, buried to his nose in his coat, hood pulled up to protect his hair. Suga and Keiji are tucked on the far side of the porch behind the trash bins, a pile of snowballs at the ready. Koutarou and Tetsurou are on the other side, hiding out of sight in the bushes. Tooru is likely listening to music and not paying any attention to the world around him.

He climbs the steps to the porch and pauses, pulling off his hood and unzipping his jacket a bit so that he can fish for his keys in his bag. When his head is bent they strike from all sides. 

Tooru, predictably, screams bloody murder and lunges towards the door. Suga aims a particularly good one that gets him in the side of the head as he ducks into the entryway. 

“You got my hair wet… I hate you all!” he yells from behind the door. “To think I trusted any of you!”

Suga and Keiji collapse against the porch, overcome with a fit of giggles.

“I pay my rent, clean the house, and this is how you treat me?”

Suga guffaws harder, and Keiji covers his mouth to try and control some of his own laughter. 

“Betrayal! Complete betrayal! I hate you all!” Tooru screeches. There are angry footsteps and another door inside slams shut.

“We should probably go and make him some hot chocolate,” Suga says between waves of laughter. “Just so he doesn’t murder us in our sleep.”

All Keiji can do is nod. He knows if he opens his mouth he’ll just start laughing again. He turns and looks across the porch, meeting Koutarou’s gaze. Koutarou is flushed red and isn’t hiding the laughter that wracks his body. When his eyes meet Keiji he smiles, and Keiji, wet, and cold and sore, smiles back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's play the game of how many people smile at each other? Because honestly, with exams and final projects, I need some of that in my life right now.  
> For any of you who are in the midsts of exams, I wish you the best of luck and a bucketful of warm smiles :)


	11. Wednesday, December 11th

“Are you sure you don’t need anything,” Suga asks from the doorway.

Keiji doesn’t look up from the notes and books scattered around him, some piled on his bed, others throw haphazardously across the floor. “I’m fine,” he snaps. He doesn’t mean to snap, but chemistry is in two days and needs to study. He can’t _not_ study. 

Suga sighs. He’s not annoyed, he’s worried, Keiji knows that but it annoys him all the more. “You should really eat.”

“Later,” Keiji says dismissively. He looks back at his computer screen, copying down the next problem from the online practice exam his professor posted the other day. 

“I’ll leave the curry on the stove. Help yourself when you want to take a break,” Suga says than finally, blessedly, leaves his room. 

Keiji doesn’t hate Suga’s parental tendencies. In fact, most of the time he loves them, the warm hugs when he needs it, or words of advice or clap on the shoulder. Suga is one of the best support systems Keiji gained when coming to school, especially when Keiji’s own parents began growing more and more distance after Keiji came out to them. It’s not that Suga has replaced his parents altogether, but he provides comfort where Keiji’s parents don’t. Even though Suga is an English major and not a journalism major, it also helps to have someone else who understands the struggles of a humanities student. 

But during finals, Suga’s parental habits become insufferable. Where Keiji just wants to be left alone to work and study, Suga is there, checking in on him, giving him tea, and making sure he takes regular breaks to eat. Keiji could do that on his own - he doesn’t but he _could_ \- and just having another person in his space is draining in ways he can’t describe.

Keiji continues to power through the take practice exam. He isn’t sure how much time has passed when another knock echoes from the door. “Suga, I’m fine. I swear,” he says through his teeth, trying his best to be even slightly more pleasant than he had been before. 

The door opens and Keiji turns, because he did not tell Suga he could come in, but instead of brown eyes, his gaze meets golden eyes. “K-koutarou,” he stumbles. His annoyance is there, just under his skin, but he pushes it down and flushes when he realizes how rude he had been. Suga knows how he gets during exam season, he’s seen Keiji like this many times before. Koutarou has not had the pleasure, and guilt eats at Keiji when he realizes how mean he must have been. “I’m sorry for snapping,” he says to his hands.

“No, no.” When Keiji looks up, Koutarou is shaking his head seriously. “I know you’re stressed about chemistry on Friday, and I also figured you could use a… pick me up!”

Keiji cocks his head and tries to see what Koutarou is carrying because he must be carrying something, but he’s still mostly behind the door and out of sight. Keiji glances at the clock, he can afford to take a five-minute break, and beckons Koutarou in.

“I was at the market and picked some things up for you,” Koutarou says, stepping around Keiji’s notes and books, and Keiji is reminded about just how messy his room really is. 

Koutarou reaches the last of the way, there’s no way to stand near Keiji’s bed without stepping on some piece of paper, and passes a warm paper bag. “Thank you. This is… you didn’t have to,” Keiji says. Whatever is in the bag smells delicious, and Keiji’s stomach rumbles, a gentle reminder that he had, in fact, forgotten to eat lunch and had not yet eaten dinner. 

Curiously Keiji peers into the bag. The scents of cinnamon and dough warm him from the inside. At the bottom of the bag sit a small handful of brown, small doughnuts that he would recognize anywhere. Cider doughnuts are some of his favorite fall snacks, he’d mentioned that to Koutarou once in passing - what? A week ago? 

Keiji looks up from the bag and for the first time that day, the corners of his lips twitch into a smile. “You didn’t have to.”

Koutarou shrugs. “I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“Don’t you have another math exam on Friday?” Keiji asks, giving Koutarou his best no-bullshit face.

Koutarou smiles sheepishly. “I do but… I’ve been studying!”

“Have you?” Keiji isn’t convinced and doesn’t pretend to be.

Koutarou shrinks under Keiji’s gaze. “A little?”

Keiji carefully folds up the bag and places it on his desk for later. He should probably have real food before eating dessert. He stands and his stomach growls loudly enough that Koutarou looks over at him, an amused smile playing across his lips. As Keiji walks over his papers and books, he says, “Let’s have dinner, then grab your things and we can study together.”

“Okay!” Koutarou says cheerfully, and any remaining annoyance that had been hiding just under Keiji's skin ebbs away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is your friendly reminder for those of you in finals (or out of finals or working or just trying to get through life) that you should take a break, get eat some food, and drink some water. Take care of yourselves! <3


	12. Thursday, December 12th

Keiji’s brain buzzes with an odd assortment of chemical names, oxidation numbers, and different formulas to find the change of energy of a solution. It’s too much for one person to know, and yet it will all be on his exam tomorrow morning. Or it all _could_ be on the exam tomorrow morning. He has to wait for tomorrow to really see what’s on the exam. Tomorrow. Keiji’s been studying for this exam for the better part of a week and he still doesn’t feel ready, but at the same time he wants to get it over with a move on.

He blinks, realizes he’s been staring at the same problem for about two minutes now, and sighs. His brain feels like mush and his fingers are shaking. Suga came to check in on him once and hasn’t bothered him since Keiji threatened to bite his head off - not literally of course, but figuratively, and that almost made it worse. Keiji should feel bad and any other day he would feel bad, but he’s so wound up with tension that he feels like he’s going to break, and snapping at the nearest living and breathing thing seems to relieve some of that, at least momentarily. 

He’s still staring at the problem, and still hasn’t started it, when there’s a knock at his door. Keiji glowers at his paper. If he ignores it, Suga, or Tooru, will go away. They’ve known him long enough to know that they should avoid him the night before a big exam. But the knocking continues anyway. Keiji can’t even think of a reason why, he ate dinner and everything! And yet the knocking persists.

He looks at the problem, it’s not like it’s going to change if he gets up from his desk, grumbles something under his breath and marches to the door of his room, throwing it open and into the nearest wall.

Koutarou stares at him, startled, and Keiji stares back, surprised but still annoyed. “What?” Keiji asks more harshly than the situation requires. 

Koutarou looks at him, really looks at him, taking in his grubby sweats, slightly oversized college sweater, and fuzzy socks. When he meets Keiji’s eyes, his entire face is full of stone-cold determination. Keiji frowns he doesn’t have time for whatever bullshit Koutarou is about to pull. He should know better, he does know better. Keiji hasn’t been able to stop talking about this exam for a week. He knows how important this is, how much Keiji needs to do well on this.

“You need a break,” Koutarou says. It’s not a question, not a soft suggestions like the other ridiculous offers he’s made over the course of the week. 

Keiji glowers and takes a step back, raising a hand to close his door. “If you don’t have anything serious you need to talk about-”

Koutarou’s hand is on the door before Keiji can even begin to close it. “I am serious. You need a break. You’ve been studying all day.”

“And I need to study more,” Keiji insists. 

“You can. Later.” 

Koutarou makes a grab for Keiji’s hand but Keiji moves faster, stepping back and pulling his arms to his chest. “I don’t have time for a beak.”

“Then you’ll make one,” Koutaru insists, a small smile playing across his lips. 

It only makes Keiji frown more. How can he be happy right now? “Don’t you have an exam tomorrow as well?”

“Yup!” Koutarou says with so much confidence, and at that moment Keiji hates him because he wishes he was that sure about anything. Hell, he wasn’t even that sure about the photography portfolio he turned in and photography is his thing, just as math is Koutarou’s. If Koutarou senses any animosity coming from Keiji he just smiles more. “I’ve been studying but I also need a break. Breaks are good for you! Tetsu was talking about it earlier, it’s some science-thing about how you brain stores information or processes shit or something. I can’t really remember, he uses a lot of fancy science-language,  _ but _ the point was that breaks are important. And I bet you haven’t taken any today, have you.”

“I ate lunch and dinner,” Keiji says.

Koutarou looks at him and then at the stack of plates gathering on Keiji’s desk. “Have you been out of the house today?”

Keiji bristles under the accusation but has to stop and think before he responds. “I… took out the trash.”

Koutarou sighs. It’s not disappointed or sad, but it’s familiar, and there’s a fond smile on his face - Keiji isn’t sure how he feels about that, he isn’t sure how he feels about anything. Koutarou reaches forward and grabs Keiji’s wrist before he can move away again, and gently guides him out of the room. “Get your boots on.”

“I don’t have time to go anywhere,” Keiji insists. 

“Just a walk,” Koutarou says, and then his eyes widen and shine under the ugly and dim hallway lights and his bottom lip juts out ever so slightly, “please?”

And Keiji can’t say no to that, so he sighs and mumbles, “fine. But I expect to be back in front of his house after fifteen minutes.”

“Great!” Koutarou yells, and his face lights up like a damn Christmas tree, and Keiji wishes that it annoyed him. He really really does. 

A minute later he’s thrown on a second sweater and a jacket, and put on boots and he shuffles awkwardly out of the house. They walk in silence down the mostly dark street. The orange lights from the houses illuminate the piles of white snow and shine off of the sporadic spots of ice that cover the sidewalk. It’s cold, freezing really, and Keiji shoves his hands in his pocket because he forgot to grab gloves, but they’ll only be out for - Keiji checks his phone - another thirteen and a half minutes, so he’ll live. 

“Keiji look at the Christmas lights!” Koutarou says, too loudly for such a quiet street, but Keiji looks anyway. “Aren’t they pretty?”

The lights blink red and green and wrap around the banister to the house’s porch. With the white snow powdered over them, they seem to glow even more brightly. Keiji lets out a breath - which hovers in the air in front of his face for a moment before dissipating - and says softly, “yes they are.”

Koutarou seems pleased about Keiji’s agreement. “I wonder if there are any more.” 

“I think I saw a few people putting them up a street over or so.”

“Ooo, let’s go then!” Koutarou says and marches forward.

Keiji glances at his watch. They have eleven minutes left of this break, walking around the block to look at Christmas lights doesn’t seem so bad, so he follows along behind Koutarou, a little more slowly as he tries to avoid as much ice as possible. He’d rather not repeat the incident with the hot chocolate. After all, Tooru already won’t let him live down one fall. 

They walk in a calm silence that’s only broken by the crunching of snow and ice under their boots and Koutarou’s quiet gasps as he points out other nicely decorated houses. Keiji can’t help but nod along with all of his excited hums, because he isn’t wrong. It really is beautiful. Lights may be the one part of the holiday season Keiji can get behind, and only because they look so much better draped in snow. It’s nothing like what he grew up with in California, with fake snow or lights wrapped around palm trees. This is the real deal and, even after four years, still holds some wonder for him.

“How are you feeling?” Koutarou asks as they stop in front of one particularly well-lit house, with a set of glowing reindeer and slay.

“Fine,” Keiji says. Then pauses, lets out a breath and corrects himself, “I’m still stressed.”

“You seem really worried about the exam,” Koutarou says.

“I am. It’s a lot of material,” Keiji replies.

“It is,” Koutarou agrees and then continues, “But it doesn’t have anything to do with your major, so why are you so worried about it?”

“I can’t fail this exam.”

“You’re not going to-”

“You don’t know that!” Keiji shouts and then snaps his mouth shut and stares at his feet. He thinks he mumbles some apology. His mouth opens and closes, but his ears and ringing with his own heartbeat and there’s an unpleasant pressure behind his eyes that he struggles to control

“Keiji?” Koutarou says quietly. Keiji doesn’t look up but he can feel the warmth on his side where Koutarou as stepped close, and maybe even reached out, but a touch never comes, even though his skin buzzes with it. 

“Sorry,” Keiji mumbles again and runs his hands down his face. Maybe he did need a break. Really, he just needs this semester to be over. “I… I need to do well on this exam to keep my GPA up. I’m not going to grad school, and chem doesn’t really matter for journalism, but I need it for my scholarship. Last winter I…” Keiji takes a steady breath and hates how he shakes. It’s pathetic really. “Last fall I failed one of my finals, another science class. I studied, and studied, and studied, but the day of the exam I… well it doesn’t matter what happened but I failed, bombed it completely and almost lost my scholarship. I managed to keep it but barely. The Deans were lenient with me once, but they won’t be again, and without the scholarship, I wouldn’t be able to graduate."

“Really?” Koutarou sounds surprised at that.

Keiji nods and then shrugs. “My parents stopped helping with school costs once they found out I was pursuing photography. They help cover housing expenses now but that’s about it.” Keiji hopes Koutarou doesn’t ask why or how, he doesn’t have the energy to even begin to try to explain his relationship with his parents, and the limbo he’s had with them ever since coming to college. 

“Oh, I see. Wow, that’s why you work so much?”

Keiji nods. “It’s fine, I’m fine. But if I lose the scholarship it won’t be.”

“That sounds stressful.”

“It could be worse.” He can still afford college, and that says a lot. That’s a fortune in and of itself. 

Koutarou frowns for a moment and then turns to Keiji, his expression as serious as it had been when Keiji has first opened the door for him. “I’m sorry your parents don’t support your degree either. Your photography is so good! And it takes so much talent and work and you have such an eye for it.”

“I appreciate the compliments,” Keiji says quickly, before Koutarou can say any more and embarrass him further. He hopes his cheeks aren’t too red, or if they are, that it looks like a reflection from the lights across the street. “But it’s fine. This isn’t the first thing my parents don’t support and I doubt it will be the last.” Koutarou opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but Keiji shivers against the non-existent wind and glances at his phone. “It’s getting colder, let’s head back inside.”

“Oh. Yes!” Koutarou says quickly and then checks his phone, his eyes widen and he lets it slip back into his pocket. “Tea and study?” Koutarou asks.

Keiji nods. “Tea and study.” He follows Koutarou back down the street, fiddling with his own phone in his pocket, not even mad that their fifteen-minute break turned into twenty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another friendly reminder to take breaks while you! Stand up, take a walk and get some fresh air. It's good for you, I promise. :)


	13. Friday, December 13th

Chem fucking sucked. But after three hours it’s over, and Keiji is free. Honestly, the only thing he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep for the next twenty years. Except, he only has three weeks. But three weeks is better than nothing so he’ll take it. His brain feels like sludge that’s about to pour out of his ears, and that’s fine because his only plans are to crawl into bed and stay there for the rest of the day. Or those were his plans, but apparently other people have other ideas.

“Keiji!” Koutarou yells from down the street as Keiji trudges up the porch steps. “Keiji!”

Keiji stops at the porch and lets out a long breath. He turns and watches the other man jog through snow and ice towards the house, and silently prays that Koutarou doesn’t fall and hurt himself. “How did your exam go, Koutarou?” Keiji asks once Koutarou is at the bottom of the porch. 

Koutarou smiles at him, opens his mouth, and yells, “Tree time!” 

It takes a second for Keiji to remember exactly what he’s talking about. As tired as Keiji is he has no intention of going back on his word, which is why he says, “let me put my bag down and I’ll meet you back here in five?”

Koutarou nods excitedly and shuffles into the entryway.

Five minutes later they’re back on the porch. Keiji has his phone, his house keys, and his wallet but it otherwise empty-handed. Koutarou comes onto the porch, twirling his keys around his finger. Right, his car. Keiji tends to forget that people actually drive. Between walking and public transport, he’s never really seen the point in renting or leasing one, buses and the subway get him everywhere he needs to go. 

“Do you know where we’re going?” Keiji asks as he follows Koutarou to his car and slips into the passenger seat. 

“I do!” Koutarou says, climbing into the driver's seat. 

Keiji takes a moment to glance around. It’s a small car, and about as messy as he expected with papers, a tissue box and two half-drunk bottles of water on the floor by his feet. From what he can see of the backseat, it’s not much cleaner but isn't any messier, and Keiji can’t judge. The car he drove in high school was certainly in a worse state than this. He suddenly wonders what his parents did with it. The last time he was back on the west coast was over a year ago, for a brief period of time during the summer between his sophomore year and junior year of college. They certainly must have gotten rid of it by now, and something like a pang pierces through in his chest.

“Are you excited, Keiji?” Koutarou’s question pulls Keiji from his spiraling thoughts. 

Keiji takes a moment to actually sort through his feelings before nodding, “I suppose I am. Though really, I’m mostly just tired.”

“Chem was that bad?” Koutarou says with a small frown, glancing at him briefly before turning his attention back to the road. 

Keiji can’t help but admire the fact that Koutarou can drive when the roads are still damp with snow and ice. As it is, he can barely drive in the rain. “It wasn’t good,” Keiji says as a way of answering. “But it’s over now.”

“And you didn’t fail?” Koutarou asks though it’s less a question and more of an observation.

“I’ll find out in a few weeks,” Keiji replies with a shrug. “There’s no point in stressing about it now when I can’t change anything.”

Koutarou chuckles at that and agrees. The rest of the drive is filled with light conversation. Normally, this kind of casual chit-chat would drain Keiji more than he could describe, but as they pull into the parking lot of the nursery, he finds that there’s an added spark in his steps as he exits the car, though that could have been because for the last half an hour he didn’t have to think about chemistry. That would raise anyone’s spirits. 

“This way!” Koutarou says, leading Keiji around the side of a small, single-story brick building surrounded by a fence. The trees and such are probably on the other side of the building, considering that they can’t see anything from the front. 

The interior of the store is cozy and warm and overflowing with the warm, earthy scents of soil, pine, leaves and foliage. Keiji takes a deep lungful of it, not realizing how much he missed just the smell of greenery even after a month and a half of fall transitioning into winter. There’s a single counter, that’s covered in a mismatch of hand-painted pots around a cash register, and a tall and spiky-looking succulent stands next to the counter. 

There are no Christmas trees. There are a few smaller pines that are made to sit on desks or on bookshelves, but they’re not the kind that Koutarou is likely hoping for. A handful of ornaments hang in the windows, from traditional red and white orbs to much stranger and much more colorful birds. Koutarou has found himself distracted by the bird ornaments, and Keiji drifts over to him to see what is so interesting.

“What have you found?” Keiji asks.

“It’s an owl!” Koutarou says, and sure enough one of the ridiculously colored bird ornaments is a bright red owl with too-large yellow eyes, and a ridiculous white scarf wrapped around its neck. It hands at a funny angle, and isn’t particularly attractive and yet Koutarou is taken by it all the same. “It’s it cute?”

If Keiji takes a step back and squints a little it kind of is, but he’s saved from answering by a door opening and closing and a woman’s voice saying, “oh I’m sorry I didn’t hear you two come in.”

Keiji turns around and offers the woman a warm smile. She’s small and round and is wrapped in a shawl that’s the same bright red as the owl ornament. “We just got here,” Keiji says.

“Oh, wonderful. Can I help you two find anything?” She asks with the kind of warm and open smile that makes Keiji assume she must be good with small animals and even smaller children. 

“We’re looking for-”

“A Christmas tree!” Koutarou finishes, loudly.

The woman must be used to working with children, because she isn’t fazed in the least by Koutarou’s sudden outburst, and actually smiles again and walks around the counter. “Follow me.” 

They do. Following her, of course, means leaving the warmth of the small shop and crossing into the back of the nursery. It’s bigger than Keiji expected but mostly empty, likely due to the snow that still covers most of the ground. 

As they walk, she continues to speak, “It’s a good thing you came today. We don’t have a lot of trees left. I hope you’re not looking for anything big.”

“We’re not,” Keiji assures, “It’s for a small apartment.”

She nods and hums knowingly, though Keiji isn’t sure what she could possibly know from talking to them for a minute. She leads them to the back corner of the nursery where there are two rows of pines. “These are what we have left. Let me know if you find one you like and we can discuss prices.” 

With that she saunters away back towards the shop, and Keiji and Koutarou turn to the trees. There aren’t a lot of them left, maybe a dozen at most, but Keiji can’t help feeling that it’s for the best. Hopefully the decision will be made quickly and they can get out of the cold sooner as opposed to later. 

“What do you think?” Keiji asks, turning to Koutarou who is clearly the expert between the two of them. 

Koutarou looks right back at him. “What do  _ you _ think? This is for you.”

“I don’t…” Keiji looks over the trees, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the twelve he sees. How does one go about choosing a Christmas tree? He can’t remember the last time he had to do so. There was a time, he knows, before his parents bought their reusable tree, that he and his dad would go to a shop and buy one, but the memories of those times are so fuzzy Keiji couldn’t even tell you how old he was in them. 

Now, as he stands in the back corner of this little nursery he feels as out of his depths as he did when taking his chemistry exam, and it’s a bit dizzying really. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” Keiji admits awkwardly. “I might need you to give me some pointers.”

Koutarou laughs at that, a deep chuckle that sends warmth right into Keiji’s chest and fills it up until he’s the one that feels like a furnace. “Just find which one you like,” he says simply as though it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“But I don’t know which that is,” Keiji says, and he sounds pathetic saying it, he knows that. But he really has no clue as to how to choose a tree and for once Koutarou is being the least helpful. In fact, he seems to actively enjoy watching Keiji flounder. 

“Well, you should look at them all, and then decide. I tend to try and find the biggest one.”

So they weren’t doing that then, good to know. Keiji starts down the aisle of trees, neck craning back and forth to take them all in. Whichever one he liked, easier said than done, they were all trees, they all looked basically the same. Some were a little thinner, others more rounded out with thicker shrubbery, but at the end of the day each one as a pine.

At the very end of the left-hand row was a particularly strange one. It seemed like it hadn’t been able to make up its mind as to which was to grow, and because of such indecision was leaning terribly to the right. One side of its leaves was thin and prickly while the other was lucky and thick. Even leaning it barely came up to Keiji’s shoulder. 

Keiji stared at it a moment and then turned to Koutarou. “This one,” he said, pointing. 

Koutarou wandered over and stopped next to him, half an inch closer and their arms would be pressed against one another. It was simultaneously too far and too close, but Keiji ignored that in favor of looking at the lopsided tree. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” Koutarou said, turning to Keiji with shining eyes.

“Let’s go find the saleswoman then.”

She’s back inside, tending to the plants on the counter. After a short discussion, she gives them a steep discount with the tree, much to Keiji’s surprise. “I just need to get rid of them,” she admits to Keiji after Koutarou wandered off to go pick up the tree. “Will the tree be all?”

Keiji pulls out his card to say yes, but something red catches the corner of his eye. The ugly, red owl with the blindly white scarf stares at him unblinking. It’s almost, but not quite, as hideous as the tree they picked out, and Keiji suddenly remembers the face Koutarou has made when he first noticed the owl. 

Keiji sighs and turns to find the woman watching him with a warm and expectant smile, “I’d actually like to get one more thing, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Keiji is done with his exams, I am not, so while I'm going to try and keep updating this daily, we'll see how successful I actually am lol. For those of you still taking exams, I feel you and believe in you! You're so close!!


	14. Saturday, December 14th

Keiji wakes up to loud chatter - which he instantly recognizes as Tooru’s voice, though he can't make out what is being said - and different sets of feet going up and down the stairs. With a groan, he rolls over and buries his face into his pillows. He was serious about sleeping away the next three weeks. It isn’t like he has other plans, or so he thinks. 

The knock on his door only makes him bury into his pillows even more. 

“Keiji?” Koutarou’s voice is loud, too loud for - Keiji forces one eye open, looks at his phone, and groans again - eleven in the morning. 

“Keiji, are you awake?”

“Yes,” he groans.

“Great!” Koutarou says, throwing open the door. He takes a step into Keiji’s room and stops short, staring at him with impossibly wide eyes. “I thought you said you were awake.”

“I am now,” Keiji replies and doesn’t bother to try and hide his grumpiness. After stress, sleepiness is his next grumpiest state, or so Suga as informed him, and Keiji hasn’t tried to argue. He’s not a morning person, especially before a cup of coffee. 

Koutarou is still watching him with an expression that’s a mixture of concern, amusement, and something else Keiji’s newly awake brain can’t quite process. “Did I wake you up?” He asks, and it almost sounds like he’s trying to speak quietly but just can’t.

“I think Tooru did that for you,” Keiji says as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, or tries to. “Can I help you?”

Koutarou’s eyes light up at that, and it’s both incredibly endearing and terrifying because Keiji thinks that he just asked the absolute wrong question. “Yes,” Koutarou says, bright and cheery and with way too much energy for a Saturday morning. “I have something I _need_ you to do for me.”

‘Need’ turned out to be a bit of a stretch. And ‘something’ turned out to be baking sugar cookies, which is how Keiji finds himself in Koutarou’s kitchen before noon, coffee in hand and pajama bottoms still on. “You seem to have most of this under control,” Keiji says, looking at the scattered ingredients and random bowls. He takes another sip of his coffee and inches towards the door. 

“I can’t make cookies alone,” Koutarou says with a pout. “The whole point of Christmas cookies is bonding!” 

And Keiji, though he’s certain that isn't the case, doesn’t argue. Instead, he sighs again, which turns into a yawn, and takes another large sip of coffee, praying that it kicks in soon. “Fine, fine. What do you need me to do?” 

Koutarou points to a piece of paper on the counter, the recipe by the looks of it, and says, “if you can start mixing the wet ingredients together. I’ll be back in a moment.” Before Keiji can reply he slips passed him and vanishes through the living room and into the hallway. 

Keiji mumbles, “what happened to not baking alone?” But sets his mug down and wanders over the counter anyway. The paper is a recipe and is a lot older than Keiji had originally thought. Or it looks older, it’s torn at the corner and slightly yellow in color, and wrinkled and stained along the sides. It seems like a well-loved piece of paper and it warms Keiji from the inside out, or maybe that was just the caffeine finally kicking in. Either way, now warm, he grabs some eggs, pulls some milk from the fridge and begins mixing things together as the recipe instructs.

Koutarou returns a moment later and sets something on the far counter beside Keiji’s mug, a moment later the bright twinkling sounds of Christmas music fill the room. It’s the preppy upbeat kind that Keiji has grown more and more used to hearing around Koutarou. “Can’t bake without music, or so my ma always says.”

Keiji hums in agreement, though really he’s never cooked or baked with music. Something about it seems right though, it adds a pep in his step as he whisks everything together and starts to add flour and sugar. 

“Tooru was in a rush this morning,” Koutarou says as he works on his own mixture. They’re standing side by side, so close that if one of them mixes a little bit too hard, their elbows bump.

“I think he was going to meet Hajime at the airport.”

“Who?”

“His…” Keiji considers it for a moment, trying to find the words to describe Hajime because truly just saying Tooru’s boyfriend doesn’t do their relationship justice. “Best friend and long-distant boyfriend,” Keiji finally says because while is body is thumping with new energy, his mind still has quite caught up. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of him. Tooru doesn’t really shut up about him.”

“Sounds pretty serious,” Koutarou says with a hint of awe in his voice.

Keiji hums. “Yeah. They’re basically an old married couple already,” he admits. “At this point, it’s a race to see who’ll get married first, Tooru and Hajime or Koushi and Daichi.” He says this jokingly and means it jokingly, but he and Tetsurou have had arguments over who’d tie the knot first. Keiji still thinks it’s Tooru and Hajime, if only because Tooru would want to one-up Suga at any chance he could. 

He finishes adding the dry ingredients and takes a look at the mixture. It looks like dough. “I think it’s done?”

Koutarou turns to him, and doesn’t hesitate to dip a finger into the mixture. Keiji looks away quickly as Koutarou lifts to the finger to his mouth to taste. He gives a pleasant hum and takes the bowl from Keiji. “It’s good. Now we leave it to chill for thirty minutes and then we can roll it out and put them in the oven.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Keiji says thickly, still staring at his hands.

“Wanna lick the spoon,” Koutarou asks.

“I think I’ll pass,” Keiji replies and hurries past Koutarou as he shrugs and brings the spoon up to his lips. 

Keiji’s face is on fire, as he stands by the far counter, taking careful sips of his lukewarm coffee. What is wrong with him this morning? Maybe Tooru is right, maybe he does need to just get laid and move on, but that’s easier said than done with Keiji isn’t a fan of one night stands. Frankly, after the two years he’s had, he’s not much of a fan of dating either. Or maybe dating isn’t a fan of him, the juries still out on that one. He holds the coffee cup to his forehead and does a quick breathing exercise to regain his composure. Pathetic, he’s just… so pathetic. 

Somewhere in the apartment a door opens and closes. “Cookies?” Tetsurou asks as he peeks his head into the kitchen. He looks from Koutarou to Keiji and smiles. “Good morning.”

Keiji grunts in reply as Koutarou says, “yup! And I think it’s afternoon already.”

“Well, if you need a taste-tester, hit me up,” Tetsurou says grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and a protein bar, “and maybe Kenma, if he’s up by then.”

Keiji longs to make a smart comment on how lucky Kenma is for being able to sleep in, but Tetsurou is gone before he gets the chance. With a huff he glances at his phone and then turns to Koutarou. “We have some time before the dough is done hardening. What’s next?”

Koutarou looks contemplative for a moment before his eyes light up in that wonderfully dangerous way when he gets an idea. “We can start planning our Christmas party!”

“Our  _ what _ ?” Keiji asks, coughing around lukewarm coffee. He finally sets the mug down, deciding that it’s not helping in any way. 

“The Christmas party we talked about earlier,” Koutarou says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I already talked to Tooru and Suga about it. They think it’s a great idea!”

Keiji nods along, suddenly recalling their conversation Monday, the one he hadn’t been paying all that much attention to and cringes. He had expected Koutarou to be talking about attending a party not hosting one. Keiji steels himself to tell Koutarou such, but then again Koutarou looks so excited, and Keiji might be a bit of a grinch around the holidays but he refuses to take that out on other people. Especially when said other people are looking at him with so much joy and wonder that even Keiji feels it for a second. 

Which is why when he finally does open his mouth, the only thing that comes out it, “when is it?”

“I was thinking the twenty-fourth,” Koutarou says quickly like he can’t believe Keiji is agreeing to this.

To be fair, Keiji can’t believe he just agreed to it either. He nods and leans back on the counter a bit to think. “How many people are attending?" He asks, because these things are important to know as a host, and once he asks about once question he needs to know more. "And what are we doing about food? Where will this be hosted, here or upstairs? Our apartment is a little bit bigger so we might want to have it upstairs…” his words trail off as he looks up at Koutarou who is watching him, still excited but more of a wide-eyed puppy than anything else, and Keiji sighs. “You haven't thought about any of this have you?”

“Nope!” Koutarou says, adding an extra pop to his ‘p.’ Before Keiji can say anything or give him a hard time for his lack of plans, the music turns into a quiet twinkling sound and Koutarou shoots into the kitchen with a scream that sounds suspiciously like “cookies.”

Twenty minutes of sheer chaos later and the cookies are all cut out into different shape and the first batch is in the oven. Keiji leans back against the counter, bopping his head side to side as Mariah Carey’s voice fills the kitchen. It’s a catchy song, but he’d never tell Tooru. He feels a heavy set of eyes on him and looks up to find Koutarou watching him with a small smile and that still unreadable expression.

“What?” Keiji asks, trying to control his head bobbing as much as possible.

Koutarou’s smile only grows. “You like it?”

“Like what?” Keiji asks with a shrug and his best nonplussed expression.

“The Christmas music!”Koutarou says with too much excitement and pure joy.

Keiji scoffs but looks away, hoping his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You like it! You do! You do!” Koutarou says, crossing the kitchen to stop right in front of Keiji. He’s so close Keiji can feel his breath, and it’s not as unpleasant as it should be. 

Keiji still can’t look at Koutarou when he says, “It's not… terrible.”

Koutarou cheers, loudly, right in his ear. “I knew it!” 

The song changes to something still upbeat but with five voices instead of one and no background music. Keiji glances at the speaker, and can’t help the fond smile that crosses his lips. In the corner of his eye he watches Koutarou’s eyes widen. “Pentatonix is alright,” he amends quietly.

Koutarou takes a step back, and for a moment Keiji finds that he can breathe again, until Koutarou grabs his hand and spins him wildly around the too-small kitchen. For a few awkward beats, Keiji does nothing but stumble after Koutarou, grabbing onto his arms for stability. But soon they fall into a ridiculous patter of wild steps, inconsistent spins, and giggles, as Koutarou sings along to the music. Even Keiji finds himself laughing but has enough control over himself to keep from singing. 

“Hey, do you two smell something burning?” Tetsurou calls from somewhere in the house, yelling so that he can be heard over the music. 

They stop their dancing - if it can even be called that - and Keiji, suddenly aware of himself once more, looks at where his hands rest on Koutarou’s arms and stumbles away just as Koutarou yanks his arm free from Keiji’s grip. They stare at each other and then the stove.

“The cookies!” they both say right as the fire alarm begins to scream. 

* * *

Twenty-five minutes, one burned batch of cookies, and two batches of unburned cookies later, Keiji, Koutarou, Tetsurou, and a grumpier than usual Kenma are piled in the living room, munching on half-decorated sugar cookies. They all gave up after a few minutes and unanimously decided to eat the cookies like chips and treat the frosting like salsa or guacamole. To say the table is a mess is an understatement, but it’s not Keiji’s problem - though he knows he’ll still end up helping to clean it up. 

There’s a quiet lull in the conversation as they all munch on their cookies, and Keiji glances to Koutarou, who's watching him with a fond smile that sends a burst of energy through his chest faster than his coffee did. He’s high on sugar and Koutarou’s warm gaze when he turns to Tetsurou and Kenma and says, “So, Tooru, Koushi and I were thinking of hosting a holiday party. Are you two free on the twenty-fourth?”


	15. Sunday, December 15th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want everyone to be aware that there is drinking in this chapter, but everyone is of-age and responsible. :)

It starts innocently enough, which is why Keiji really should have seen it coming. They’re sitting around the living room, having pushed the table aside because it wouldn't have fit all eight of them. Boxes of takeout and a few bottles of wine are scattered around the room, mostly empty. Tetsurou and Kenma are curled up together in the green armchair, while Daichi, Suga, Tooru and Hajime are squished together on the couch, or Daichi, Suga and Hajime are, Tooru is sprawled out across from them, his head is in Hajime’s lap while his feet rest on Daichi’s thighs. It just goes to show how much of a saint Daichi really is. He doesn’t kick Tooru off of him or make any attempt to move him, merely leans into Suga some more and ignores the feet sprawled across his lap.

Keiji is seated on the floor with Koutarou, and they’re all discussing recent films and television shows they want to catch up on over the break. Tooru, of course, has a list of films he wants to watch over the break, from space documentaries on Netflix to new films in theaters. Between the three housemates, Tooru's always been the film buff, so that isn't surprising. Daichi attempts to recommend a few romantic holiday films that he wants to see with Suga, though the only thing Suga wants to go see if Frozen two. "It's Disney," is the only thing he says as way of explanation. And Daichi sighs, kisses him on the cheek, and agrees, because, as Keiji has noted before, he's a saint. 

There are, of course, the classic holiday films that people grow nostalgic over, and this is where Keiji makes his first mistake. He zones out of the conversation. He's warm and sleepy after one too many glasses of wine. He listens to the lull of everyone's voices, and not necessarily the words that are coming out of their mouth, which is how he makes his second mistake. Tooru makes some joke, Keiji can tell it's a joke but his tone of voice, but misses the rest of it. And when everyone starts laughing, he doesn't join them, which results in everyone staring at him, with a mixture of confusion and concern. 

“What?” he asks, suddenly aware of all the attention he is receiving. He turns to Koutarou who stares back at him in disbelief. “What?”

“Keiji,” Suga says after a moment, in that too-sweet teacher’s voice and Keiji knows he’s fucked up, but he doesn't know how. “Have you ever seen the movie _Elf_?”

The impending feeling of doom leaves, which is his third and final mistake. He should have listened to the feeling. Instead, he shrugs passively and says, “I mean, no. Why?”

And the chaos begins. Tooru sits up so quickly he almost knocks Suga and Daichi to the floor and elbows Hajime in the stomach in an attempt to keep from spilling his remaining drink. Tetsurou coaks as he finishes off his glass of wine, and Kenma looks up so quickly he drops his switch. Even Koutarou ends up choking on his own laughter. 

“What?” Keiji asks looking around the room. “It’s just a movie?”

“Just a movie!” Tooru squawks. “Just a movie? It’s a right of passage. It’s a way of life! Just a movie. My lord, next thing you’ll tell me is that you’ve never seen _Love Actually_ either.”

Keiji freezes and tries his damnedest to melt into the ground.

Tooru’s eyes turn impossibly wide. “How?” He says, so quietly it sounds like he’s just witnessed a national tragedy. “How have we been friends for over three years and I didn’t know you haven’t seen _Elf_ or _Love Actually_? How could I have been so blind to your pain? So unaware of your suffering.”

Beside him, Hajime lets out a long sigh and plucks the wineglass from Tooru’s hands. “Okay. That’s enough for you.”

“But Hajime! Love, he’s never seen…” Tooru sniffles and for a terrifying moment, Keiji thinks he’s actually about to cry and he’s not sober enough to deal with that. But then Tooru stops, takes a breath and looks directly at him. “That’s it! We’re having an intervention!” He looks around the room, back straight and eyes sharp. “Suga, dear, the DVDs, if you would.” Suga is out of the room before Tooru can even finish his request. “Daichi, if you would turn on the television and start the DVD player. Thank you. Hajime, my love, my soul, if you could just hand me that glass…”

“Absolutely not,” Hajime says sternly and holds the glass even farther away, going as far as the pass it to Tetsurou who shrugs, takes it, and finishes up the last of it.

And all at once, any authority Tooru had vanishes as he turns back into the winey child he is at heart. “But I want some!” he wines. “Who watches Elf sober, anyways?”

“Most people, I would think,” Hajime says, rubbing circles into Tooru’s back as he pouts. "And I hate to break it to you, but I don't think you're sober." 

As everyone moves to try and rearrange the chairs and the coffee table, Keiji stands and begins to pick up some of the empty bottles and takeout boxes and beings to bring them to the kitchen. Koutarou follows after him, more trash in hand. 

“I’m sorry they’re so much,” Keiji says as he separates what he can into the recycling and dumps the rest into the trash bin.

Koutarou laughs. “They’re a lot of fun. I didn’t realize Hajime was so cool.”

Keiji nods. “He really is, and he can put up with Tooru, which is a feat in and of itself.” 

“He did have a point though,” Koutarou says, his amused smile only growing, “I can’t believe you’ve never seen _Elf_ or _Love Actually_.”

Keiji groans. “Not you too.”

“They’re Christmas classics!”

“Then you have your answer as to why I haven’t seen them,” Keiji responds as he places the dirty silverware in the sink, and begins running water. Koutarou settles next to him, towel in hand. 

“Have you seen _any_ Christmas movies?” Koutarou asks, and unlike Tooru it’s not threatening or accusatory. The question is curious like he actually wants to know.

“When I was little, yeah,” Keiji responds, as he starts to wash the dishes, handing them off to Koutarou as he finishes. “The animated Rudolph was my favorite. And the Grinch, and of course a Christmas Carol.”

“Animated or Micky Mouse?” Koutarou asks with the utmost seriousness.

Keiji scoffs but he can’t hold his serious face for long. “Micky Mouse of course.”

“Of course,” Koutarou replies stiffly, but the twitch of his cheeks gives his grin away and then they start laughing. Keiji doesn’t know why, but it just feels right, standing by the sink while they’re slightly tipsy and trying to wash and dry dishes together.

“Tooru wants to start the movie,” Kenma says suddenly from the door and Keiji startles so badly he drops the clean fork he was holding into the sink and sends water flying everywhere. 

“We’ll be out in a moment,” he says, breathlessly, while beside him, Koutarou’s laughter only grows.

Kenma looks between him and Koutarou and sends him a small and knowing smile before slipping back into the living room as silently as he came. Keiji’s face feels hot like it’s on fire or like he’d forgotten to put on sunscreen and then went to lay out by the beach all day. It’s probably just as red. He turns away from Kotarou quickly for fear of being easy to read and says in a rush, “we should probably go before we piss Tooru off any more.”

“Yeah,” Koutarou says behind him, and Keiji desperately wants to know what kind of face he makes and smile he has on, but he doesn’t look. He can’t. Wow, he probably shouldn't have drunk that much. “We probably should.”

He doesn’t look at Koutarou all the way back into the living room. The couch and the armchair have been pulled to the far side of the room to both face the television, and the coffee table is pushed off to the side. There’s no room on the couch, not that Keiji particularly wants to be trapped between Suga and Tooru watching this movie, so he grabs a pillow and sits in front of Suga’s legs so that he can lean against his knees. Koutarou settles beside him on another pillow, close enough that if Keiji were to move their arms would brush and their legs would press together. 

He leans further into Suga’s legs, and if Suga knows what he’s doing, he doesn’t say anything, just runs his fingers through Keiji’s hair once and goes back to whispering to Daichi. The movie starts soon after, and Keiji loses himself in a magical world of human-elves and New York winters. He isn’t sure when, but at some point in during the movie, a weight drops onto his shoulder. Koutarou’s head is heavy, and his hair tickles Keiji’s chin and threatens to get into his mouth, and his heat is stifling, but Keiji melts into the touch. It’s the alcohol still flowing in his system, both their systems, he knows this but doesn't let himself think too hard about it. He keeps his eyes focused on the television and sinks into the warmth, and if his eyes fall shut and his breathing evens, well, then that’s the alcohol too.


	16. Monday, December 16th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small heads up for some sad feelings, but this is really as "angsty" as this fic is gonna get. Sometimes people get sad and sometimes topics are sensitive ones!

Keiji is reaching for the door to the porch when it opens on its own and Koutarou is on the other side. His face heats immediately. They haven’t spoken since Keiji woke up with a dry mouth, cricked neck, and Koutarou sprawled atop him. He had tried not to wake Koutarou, but ultimately had to when he couldn’t get up and had work in half an hour. They’d made eye contact, Keiji had mumbled an awkward apology with a mouth that felt as though it were full of cotton balls, and then he had slipped off to his room to change and leave for work. 

It had been awkward, and Keiji had wanted to say something about but he just couldn’t figure out what. But now Koutarou is here in front of him and it’s better late than never, except before Keiji can even begin to think of what he wants to say, Koutarou steps further into the entryway and holds a letter up to Keiji’s face, “look at what I received!”

Keiji blinks and focuses on the messy handwriting directly in front of his face. The address and name look to be made up of three different handwritings, and there are about half a million stickers covering the rest of the envelope. “That’s very sweet,” Keiji says softly, and Koutarou drops his arm. “It’s from your siblings, I assume?” 

Koutarou nods. The smile he has one is bright and warm in a way he only gets when talking about his three younger siblings and his family. It’s endearing, and any awkwardness Keiji was worried about before is quickly forgotten. “We send out Christmas cards every year, I just wish I had something to send them.”

Before Keiji can even think of what to say, the front door opens again, and this time Suga walks through, hands full of the mail Keiji was about to pick up. Their tiny entryway was not made for three people to stand together in, and Keiji finds himself taking a step back through his own front door as Koutaru hugs the wall to give Suga some room. 

“Wow, it’s a real party in here,” Suga jokes and then seems to take notice of Koutarou’s bummed expression because when he speaks again it’s softer and more concerned, “What’s up?”

Keiji isn’t even sure how to begin explaining the situation, but he doesn’t have to because Koutarou groans and says, “I don’t have a Christmas card to send to my siblings.”

Suga hums at that and nods like it’s a serious problem to have. It's the school teacher in him, and Keiji is so thankful for that trait and his perfect timing. “Well, it is a little late to take pictures and put together holiday cards,” Suga says and Koutarou only droops more. Keiji shoots Suga a glare and then notices it, that mischievous twinkle in his eye and Keiji’s stomach ties itself in a knot and drops to his toes. “But… you happen to live under a very well-established photographer, who I’m sure would love to take pictures for you.”

“Who…?” Koutarou begins to ask and then his eyes snap to Keiji and suddenly Koutarou is throwing himself at Keiji. He grabs at Keiji's shoulders, and wherever he touches warms up instantly. Or that could be the heat of the house. Keiji hopes, for his own sake, that it's the heat from the house. “I forgot! You take pictures, right? Do you think you could take some for me? Just to send to my siblings. Could you have them by Christmas? How much would that cost… Christmas is only eight days away….”

“It wouldn’t cost anything,” Keiji says, carefully extracting himself from Koutarou’s grip. “I’m not sure if I could have them ready for your siblings to have by Christmas, but I’m not working on any other projects so I could have them for you to send before Christmas, if that’s okay. But we’d need to take them today or-”

“Today! Perfect! Thank you!” Koutarou calls, then throws himself into his own apartment, yelling something about photos, Keiji doesn’t stick around to hear it all. He turns and starts back up the stairs to grab his camera and a clean memory card. Suga is right behind him, sorting through the mail as they go up the stairs. 

Before Keiji can turn to his room, Suga’s hand is on his arm, stilling him. “There’s a card for you,” Suga says, so quietly Keiji barely hears him.

He turns slowly, and eyes the neat letter on the top of Suga’s pile of mail. Keiji’s name is written in neat strokes, and his address is printed in small script above his name and the stamp used is just a basic one of some flowers or something. He doesn't need to look at the return address in the top left corner to know who it's from.

“Oh,” is the only thing Keiji can say. His mouth is suddenly as dry as it had been that morning. He takes the envelope with shaking fingers. “Thanks.”

“Do you think Daichi and I can join in?” Suga asks casually, after a moment.

Keiji looks up from the letter, thankful for the distraction. “If you wanted pictures you could have asked me earlier.”

Suga’s smile grows. “So we can?”

“Of course,” Keiji replies and takes out his phone to glance at the time. “Can he be here in fifteen minutes? I’d like to head out soon." They don’t have too much sunlight left, and while Keiji can take night-time pictures they’re way more of a pain to make look good.

“Of course!”

“What are we doing in fifteen minutes?” Tooru asks, sticking his head out of the living room.

“Family pictures!” Suga calls, walking to his room. 

Keiji sighs and turns to Tooru. “You and Hajime have fifteen minutes and then we’re leaving.”

Tooru cheers and races back into the living room. “Did you hear that, Hajime? We’re getting cute couple pictures!”

Keiji rolls his eyes, but still smiles as he slips into his room. He tosses the letter onto his desk, and doesn’t look at it again. 

* * *

Photoshoots with seven adults (Tetsurou was able to convince Kenma to join) is sheer chaos. It’s worse than herding small children, because at least with them, if you put a puppet on your hand or have a toy by the camera they’ll look at you, and if you make funny faces they’ll smile. Adults actually understand what you’re trying to ask them to do, they just choose to ignore it, which is the most frustrating. Though it does make for some rather ridiculous pictures, Keiji knows he’ll have a blast editing these, especially the photos where Tooru snuck up and tried to jump onto Suga’s back.

They eventually settled on walking up to the lawn on campus, where piles of snow remain and benches galore are available for photos. Keiji had grabbed his camera and tripod, nothing unusual to see on campus, but the box of Santa hats, ornaments, and reindeer antlers are what draw people’s attention. The number of random students he’s had to turn away saying “no, this is a private photoshoot” and “I will not just take one picture for you and your friend” is a bit ridiculous.

“You should start charging them when they ask,” Kenma says. Tetsurou and Kotarou are posing on the bench together, or trying to, they’re currently in a debate over which way their Santa hats should flop. 

“They’d all want their pictures ready before Christmas,” Keiji says as he peers through the lens and snaps a few pictures of the two bickering. “And I don’t have the energy to deal with all of that.”

“True,” Kenma hums. “Next year though. You could make a lot of money.”

“We’ll be gone next year,” Keiji replies dryly. 

Kenma makes a grunting sound and Keiji knows he’s getting The Disgusted face sent his way but doesn't care. It’s the truth after all. In just six months Keiji will be lord knows where working for some company - hopefully - Kenma will be off game designing and computer science-ing, and Kuro will be in grad school, and Tooru will be in Med school, and Suga will be getting his teaching license. They won’t be living together, but it isn’t like Keiji is naive enough to believe they won’t be friends. He knows they will, they just won’t see each other every day.

Keiji distracts himself from that train of thought by taking a few more photos. 

“Keiji!” Koutarou calls as Tetsurou rises from the bench and wanders back over the Kenma. 

“What would you like next, Koutarou?” Keiji asks, clicking through some of the photos he just took to make sure they look alright.

“Let me take a few photos of you?”

Keiji startles so hard he nearly knocks the tripod and his camera over. Thankfully, he’s there to catch it and so is Koutarou. Their hands brush together as they steady the tripod and Keiji only hopes the pink of his cheeks is from the cold. “What?”

“You should get some photos too!” Koutarou says, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the bench. 

“I… I think I’m alright…” Keiji stammers. 

“Nope!” Tooru says as he walks over and plops himself on the bench, pulling Keiji down with him. “You definitely need some photos with us!”

“I second that!” Suga says, suddenly in front of Keiji. He holds up three matching Santa hats, and Keiji glares at him.

“Absolutely not,” Keiji grumbles.

“Ab-so-lute-ly yes!” Tooru giggles. “Two against one, Keiji. You’ve been outvoted.”

Suga pulls the Santa hat over Keiji’s head then sits himself on Keiji’s other side. 

It’s awkward. Keiji has forgotten how awkward being on the other side of the camera is. Tooru and Suga lean into it like the super-models they are. Tooru knows all his best angels and how to smile naturally, and Suga is unfairly pretty and photogenic, he doesn’t even have to try. And Keiji is squished between both of them. 

Eventually, Koutarou demands that he wants a turn with Keiji and steals Tooru’s hat right off of his head, which does mess up his hair, and throws himself on the bench. Kenma has taken control of the camera, which Keiji is thankful for. He doesn’t even what to know what random buttons and settings Tetsurou or Tooru would find.

Koutarou throws an arm over Keiji’s shoulder, and Keiji is suddenly aware of how close they are, and how warm he is, and suddenly Keiji can’t focus on the camera, only on the firm fingers that are splayed over his shoulder. He wants them everywhere, and that is  _ not _ an appropriate thought to have in public, wow. 

“If you’re really uncomfortable we can stop,” Koutarou says quietly, into his ear and Keiji shifts to look at him.

“I’m not,” he says quickly because it’s the truth, “I’m just not used to being on this side of the camera.”

“You don’t take pictures with people?” Koutarou asks. 

Keiji shakes his head. “I’m generally the one taking the pictures.”

“No family photos?”

Keiji swallows, his mouth suddenly dry as he remembers the letter waiting for him at home. “Not in a few years… no.” He pulls away from Koutarou, and stands quickly, too quickly. He can see Suga’s concerned look and feel Koutarou’s confused gaze on his as he marches towards the camera.

“You know what we need,” Tetsurou says as Keiji reaches the camera. “A group picture.”

The agreement is almost unanimous - Keiji and Kenma are outvoted - and Keiji sighs and begrudgingly begins to instruct people on where to sit. They can all fit on or around the bench if placed carefully, and Keiji knows he can place them carefully. Tetsurou and Kenma stand behind the bench, both in Santa hats, much to Kenma’s displeasure. Suga, Daichi, Tooru and Hajime are squished together on the bench, and Koutarou is kneeling in front of them. Beside him, is where Keiji will run and sit once he starts the time. 

Once hats and reindeer antlers are distributed, and everyone is in place and relatively still, Keiji checks the focus on last time, presses go on the timer and hurries to sit next to Koutarou. He’s barely sat down when a headband is dropped onto his head - he knows he has Suga to thank - but pushes through and smiles anyway as the camera clicks and the picture is taken. 

They take five more in a similar fashion, each resulting in more and more chaos as Kenma wanders off to play his games, Tooru sprawls across everyone on the bench, and Koutarou tries to switch his Santa hat with Keiji’s antlers mid-photo. He’d never admit it, but Keiji is looking forward to editing these pictures. Pictures with lots of movement and pieces have always been his favorite to work on. 

The sun is just starting to set when they start to pack up. Keiji kneels on the cold ground as he puts his camera away back into its protective case. Suga is suddenly there, passing him pieces calmly and methodically. 

“Have you opened it?” Suga asks.

“No.”

“Okay, I just wanted to check-in and make sure you were okay. After you do, let me know if you need anything.”

Keiji sighs. “You know what it says. It’s nothing bad.” He’s received the same card the last three years in a row it’s not hard to guess what’s inside.

Suga watches him and then after a moment stands. “I know. But really, I'm here to talk, and so is Tooru.”

Keiji knows that. They're the two people who have been on his side since day one, and he loves that about them, but they tend to make things a bigger deal than they actually are. Which is why Keiji sends Suga a smile and says, “It’s a letter from my parents, not a bomb, Suga.” Keiji must be speaking a little too loudly because Koutarou, who’s helping pack up their accessories, sits up and looks to Keiji. 

“You got a letter from your parents?” He says it like it’s the most wonderful thing in the world.

Keiji can already feel a headache coming on as he stands. “I did.”

“What did they say?” Koutarou asks.

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it.”

Koutarou frowns at that. “Why not?”

There are so many things Keiji could say to that, so many things he wants to say. The words pile in his chest threatening to burst. Instead, he takes a breath and shakes his head weekly. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now,” Keiji finally says.

He expects some more pushing, some more curiosity. Lord knows Tooru was a nosey little brat the first time Keiji received a letter from his parents. But instead, Koutarou takes a step back and nods. There’s something in his expression, and Keiji worries it’s pity but it isn’t. It’s something softer, something Keiji can’t name. 

“Would you like a hug instead?” Koutarou asks with a small smile and open arms.

Keiji doesn’t think, just lets himself fall into the warmth and wishes quietly that he could stay there forever.


	17. Tuesday, December 17th

“What are you wearing?” Keiji asks when he opens the door and sees Koutarou standing there in a green sweater with an owl on it. Actually, saying that it just had an owl on it doesn’t do the sweater justice, because the owl has a Santa hat on and is dabbing. Around the border of the sweater are more owls. They are also dabbing. 

Keiji blinks, once and then twice. There’s a moment where he thinks he just mistook the owl for something else. A tree? A person? He doesn’t know what. But every time he blinks he finds himself looking at a dabbing owl in and wonders how he got here.

Koutarou looks from him down at the sweater and then back at Keiji again, a perplexed expression crossing his face. “It’s my Christmas sweater?”

“I see that,” Keiji says, looking at the sweater again. It even has little stars, snowflakes, and little, red poinsettias. This sweater really had everything. “Is it for a special occasion?” Keiji asks after a moment. 

When Koutarou’s confused expression doesn’t change, Keiji changes his question, “is it for one of those ugly sweater parties?” He’s heard Tooru talk about them before, has seen the sweaters Tooru has worn to them, and they’re… not pretty, that’s for sure. But apparently that’s the point. Keiji’s never understood it and has never tried to understand it.

Apparently, that is the wrong question to ask because Koutarou gasps like he’d been personally wounded and his confused expression transforms into one of hurt and betrayal. “It’s not ugly!” Koutarou says, as always, too loudly for their small entryway. He wraps his arms around his sweater as if shielding it from Keiji’s hurtful words.

Keiji looks it over again, ignoring the way it hugs Kouatarou’s shoulders and shows off his arms, and then looks back at Koutarou, one eyebrow raised. “So you’re not going to a party?”

“I’m going Christmas shopping with Tetsu,” Koutarou says, and Keiji isn’t sure what’s more horrifying in that sentence, that Koutarou would proudly wear a dabbing owl out in public with no shame, or that he makes it sound like going shopping with Tetsurou is a genuinely good idea. “Oh? Would you like to come?”

“I can’t, I have work,” Keiji says. Work, yes that was what he was leaving the house for. He glances down at his phone. He needs to be out the door in the next three minutes to guarantee that he isn’t late, though it is a Thursday afternoon, how many people are even on campus and how many of these few individuals need coffee? More than he would think, most likely, but being a few minutes late won’t get him fired. 

“They make you work around the holidays?” Koutarou asks with a pout.

Keiji shrugs. “It’s not too bad. There are fewer customers and I get paid more. I can’t complain. Plus we’re closed starting the twenty-second so it’s fine.” 

“Still,” Koutarou pouts as if Keiji’s work schedule personally hurt him, with shouldn’t be as adorable as it is. But, as established, Keiji is pathetic so it is. Adorable. Really, truly adorable. Suddenly, Koutarou’s eyes light up. “This is why you don’t feel the holiday spirit because you work too much!”

“I don’t think that’s the case. We've started playing holiday music.”

“ _ Just _ started,” Koutarou says, still scandalized.

“It’s… been a few days,” Keiji says and decides that now is not the time to mention that when asked, he was the one out of his three co-workers who had the most recommendations and new the most songs, to the surprise of literally everyone in the room. “Now, I really need to go.”

Keiji excuses himself with a smile, moving around Koutarou to step onto the porch. “We should go Christmas shopping together!” Koutarou says suddenly, for no reason at all.

When Keiji turns around and gives him a questioning look, he can’t help but notice the pink spreading across Koutarou’s cheeks. “If you’d like to,” Keiji responds carefully. He isn’t sure where this sudden tension came from, but it’s there and he doesn't quite know what to do about it.

“Yes. I would. Like to. That is, if you’d like to,” Koutarou says, stiff and awkward, his face getting redder and redder by the second. It stands out nicely against the green, though Keiji would never admit that out loud. 

“I think I would,” Keiji says and turns around before Koutarou has a chance to see his own cheeks coloring or the fond grin spreading across his lips. “I don’t have work tomorrow, so if that works for you, then t’s a date. Sounds good?”

Behind him, Koutarou makes a wheezing sound followed by a few coughs and then a strangled, “okay.” 

* * *

It isn’t until Keiji is walking into the coffee shop that he thinks about what he says. His knees shake so badly they almost give out on him and he catches himself in the doorway, heart threatening to jump out of his throat. How had he missed that?

Yachi, his smallest and most nervous coworker, is at his side not three seconds later. “Are you all right, Keiji?” She asks, nervously patting him on the back like he’s a toddler choking on something. 

Keiji takes a nervous breath in and turns to her, eyes wide. He should say he’s fine. He is, after all,  _ physically _ okay, which is probably what she’s most worried about. But when he opens his mouth, the only thing that comes out is, “what do you do if you accidentally ask someone out on a date?” 

Yachi stares at him for a moment and her fear-filled concentrate melts into something warmer. “Santa-hat boy?” she asks knowingly, one hand still resting on his arm as she leads him towards the backroom. 

All Keiji can do is nod. His face is burning and his heart is beating so rapidly it’s actually concerning. He might have to call Tooru about that one if it doesn't stop any time soon. 

She laughs at that, not meanly, kindly, and her grin only grows, “so, tell me  _ exactly _ what happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon the length of this one folks, exams are catching up to me, but as of tomorrow, I'll be free!! For anyone still taking exams/having work, you got this and are so so close <3
> 
> Also, if anyone is curious, the [dabbing owl sweater](https://www.teezily.com/en-us/mkt/funny-dabbing-owl-sweatshirt-ugly-christmas-sweater) is real


	18. Wednesday, December 18th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning for very mild, implied homophobia. Nothing is said, it's all in actions and reactions, and nothing is done, Keiji just grumbles about it, but it is there, so if it makes you uncomfy, skip from "which is how Keiji finds himself..." to "they're ushered away soon after that..."

Shopping with Koutarou isn’t as awkward as Keiji feared it would be. Neither of them has brought up Keiji’s Freudian-slip from yesterday, and they both seem content with not talking about it at all. They met in the morning, walked to the station, and took the train into the city, chatting about everything and anything not relating to Keiji's use of the word "date." One of the good things about the East coast is the indoor malls, which are still a strange concept to Keiji who grew up with everything being outside and in the sun, or the rain if you choose a particularly bad day to go shopping. But indoor malls are nice, they’re warm and free of snow and icy-rain but also filled with so much music and talking it sometimes is a bit overwhelming. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. Keiji glances at it and frowns.

_Today 1:56pm_

From: ✨#1 House Mate ✨💯🏳️🌈

How’s the date going? 😊❤️

Keiji ignores the message and slips his phone back into his pocket. He knew talking to Suga and Tooru last night was a mistake, but he was freaking out and couldn’t take all of that anxiety out on his coworkers - Yachi can only handle so much. Besides, that's what best friends are for, talking about boy problems and your own idiocy, especially when the two go hand-in-hand.

“Is everything okay?” Koutarou asks. He’s been unusually attentive today. No, not unusually so, he’s always pretty observative, but he’s acted on it more, which is interesting and something Keiji is _not_ going to over think.

“Tooru being Tooru,” he says and Koutarou hums knowingly. 

His phone buzzes twice more, and though Keiji knows that he shouldn’t he checks anyway. 

_Today 1:57pm_

From Suga 💜

Ignore Tooru

And don’t overthink and remember to Talk To Him!!!

You got this 💕💕

_Today 1:57pm_

From Tooru’s Babysitter

Sorry about Tooru. He won’t bother you anymore.

Keiji can’t help but chuckle and shake his head as he puts his phone on silent and then back into his pocket. Koutarou is still watching him with a curious expression, but Keiji waves it away. “It’s really nothing important, just Suga and Tooru getting on my ass about something.”

Koutarou nods. “The three of you are really close, hu?”

“I guess,” Keiji replies, though he knows it’s true. Koushi and Tooru are basically the siblings he's never had, and honestly he doesn’t know how - or even if - he would have gotten through college without them. Not that he’d ever tell them that, though he’s pretty sure they both already know. “We met freshman year and just… clicked. Been hanging out ever since, and living together since our sophomore year. Which reminds me, how do you and Tetsurou know each other?”

“We had math together our freshman fall,” Koutarou explains as they weave through couples making eyes at one another and mothers trying to herd their demanding children from one store to the next. “But we first met in high school. We played on rival volleyball teams.”

“Volleyball…” Keiji mutters. That would explain the arms.

“That would explain the…?” Koutarou asks and Keiji’s face heats up. 

He did not mean to say that out loud. Oh boy does he need to get a grip, he’s acting like a fourteen year old who’s experiencing his first crush and it’s honestly embarrassing. More than embarrassing it's ridiculous and completely uncalled for. He takes a breath, prays his embarrassed panic isn’t showing on his face, and says stiffly, “the bond. Between you both. It explains the bond.” Koutarou just looks amused and Keiji can’t tell if it’s directed at him or his stilted words or both, so he keeps talking in hopes that his awkwardness can just be ignored, or even better, forgotten entirely. “So you got gifts yesterday, what else do you need to pick up today?”

“Nothing,” Koutarou says with an easy shrug. “I got everything I needed to.”

“Then why are we shopping?” Keiji asks. If he had gotten everything, there wasn’t any reason to be back in the city. Keiji could have managed alone. It wasn’t like he had too many things to get. 

“I wanted to spend more time with you,” Koutarou says it so simply, so openly it has to be the truth. It doesn’t leave any room for falsity and Keiji’s treacherous heart ricochets off his ribs and lodges itself in his throat. 

“I… uh… see,” Keiji says, or attempts to. He can’t really form the words. 

“So what do you need to get?” Koutarou asks, seemingly unaware of Keiji’s plight, which honestly just makes it that much worse. Is he that unaware of the affect he has on Keiji?

Keiji fumbles for his phone, ignoring any other new messages and emails and opens his notes. He skims through it. “Let’s see… I got things for Suga and Kenma and Hajime already, which means I still need something for Tooru and Tetsurou. I think I know what I’m getting Tooru, but do you have any ideas for Tetsurou?”

“Maybe…” Koutarou taps his chin as he considers. “There’s some new physics-bio-science-y book that he was talking about yesterday. Let me text Kenma to get the name of it.”

“Perfect thank you.”

They continue through the mall, stopping in a few stores for Keiji to pick up some space-themed shirts for Tooru, both attractive ones and hideous ones. Keiji already knows which he’ll prefer. 

They near the center of the mall, where the ceiling rises, and from the second floor, on which they had eventually found themselves, they can see all the way up to the fourth floor and all the way down the first. On the ground level is a massive tree, wrapped in white garland and covered in red and gold ornaments and twinkling lights. It’s beautiful. Groups of people flood around the tree’s base, taking photos and looking up in wonder. It’s a joy filled sight, and Keiji aches when thinking about the picture it could make. But he’s here for shopping, and has enough photos to edit, he doesn’t need to add another one to that list, no matter how pretty it would be.

He turns away from the railing is about to keep walking when Koutarou grabs his arm and holds him him in place. “Look, keiji!” He yells excitedly, and Keiji does what he’s told and follows Koutarou’s extended arm to a person dressed in red with a crowd around them. “It’s Santa!”

“For little children,” Keiji reminds Koutarou lightly, but it doesn’t seem like he’s listening as he’s already walking towards the escalator, dragging Keiji along behind him. 

“Let’s get pictures with Santa.”

“We’re too old,” Keiji complains, but follows along anyway, because there’s no way he can outmatch Koutarou, and there’s a small part of him that doesn’t really want to. That likes being dragged around. Keiji dutifully ignores that train of thought. 

“You’re never too old for Santa!” Koutarou declares and then gives Keiji his most accusatory look, which is honestly just cute - not that Keiji would ever admit that - and asks, “Where’s you Holiday spirit?”

“We’ve established that I have none,” Keiji replies, deadpanned.

“Well, we’ll just have to change that then, won’t we?” Koutarou grip shifts down Keiji's wrist to his hand. He gives it a squeeze and marches forward, a man on a mission.

Which is how Keiji finds himself in line with a bunch of children to sit on Santa's lap. Some of the mothers seem amused when they look between him and Koutarou, others seem annoyed. One mother two people behind him, rolls her eyes and visibly scoffs when she sees the two of them and eyes their hands with utmost distaste. Keiji clenches his jaw and tightens his grip on Koutarou’s hand in response. Some people.

“If you’re uncomfortable…” Koutarou says softly into his ear.

In the corner of his eye, Keiji watches the woman glare and turn away to distract her kinds from the “indecency.” He leans into Koutarou more and shakes his head. “No, I’m all good.”

Koutarou blinks at him then nods furiously. 

Before too long, they’re at the front of the line. Keiji ushers Koutarou forward, insisting that he’ll be the one to take the picture, when someone taps him on the back. It’s the mother who was standing right behind him. If she has an issue too, Keiji isn’t sure how he’s going to contain his frustration, but all she does is give him a warm smile and says, “would you like me to take a picture for both of you?”

Keiji blinks at her, then looks over her shoulder at the woman who is still glaring at him and Koutarou. Honestly, her dedication to making her displeasure known is impressive, so Keiji will give her credit there. With a smile and a “thank you” he hands off his phone to the kind mother and wanders over to Koutarou, who’s seated on one of the Santa’s knees. After only a moment’s hesitation, Keiji plops himself down on the other, making sure to keep most of his weight on his feet as to not crush the poor soul he’s sitting on. 

He turns to the camera, makes eye contact with the glaring woman behind it, and gives his best smile.

They’re ushered away soon after that, but not before Keiji collects his phone and the kind mother says, “I’m sorry about people like her. But just so you know, _I_ happen to think you and your boyfriend are absolutely adorable.”

Keiji never gets the chance to respond or correct her because Koutarou drags him away, and for that he’s thankful. He isn't sure he wanted to correct her at all. 

“Let me see, let me see!” Koutarou says. They stop in the shadow of the giant Christmas tree, and Keiji opens his phone, going straight to his most recent picture and flips through the last two. They’re basically the same, with Koutarou and Keiji sitting on some poor sucker’s knee, smiling widely at the camera. It’s not a bad picture, the mother knew what she was doing.

“Send them to me?”

Keiji nods and double taps on the pictures when he notices as third he hadn’t before. It must have been taken when Keiji first sat down because Koutarou isn’t looking at the camera, he’s looking at Keiji with wide eyes and a slightly opened mouth and there’s something in his expression that makes Keiji’s stomach twist itself into knots. 

He sends the first two to Koutarou, and before he can stop and think of the consequences, sends out the third as well. 

_Today 3:07pm_

To ✨#1 House Mate ✨💯🏳️🌈 & Suga 💜

[Image attached]

So I’m fucked

The response is almost immediate, which he should have expected. 

From Suga 💜

😊😊😊

From: ✨#1 House Mate ✨💯🏳️🌈

Not yet

But if you talk to him you will be

Keiji turns off his phone quickly and shoves it as deep into his pocket as it will go. His face is flaming and his breath comes short. Tooru should be thankful he’s all the way on the other side of the city, because if he was here right now, Keiji would have murdered him, rent and Hajime be damned.

“Keiji?” Koutarou asks, he sounds nervous, almost concerned. 

“I’m fine,” Keiji says too quickly, then he takes a breath, nods, and sends a small, reassuring smile to Koutarou. “I’m fine, really.” He means it, and even if it isn’t he will be, because crushing isn’t something new to Keiji. He just needs to wait it out, because he knows better now and isn’t just going to dive into something without thinking. He's know Koutarou for what? Eighteen days. Yeah, it's simple infatuation, nothing more, by the end of the month he'll be over it. 

But when Koutarou reaches for him blindly as he marches forward towards their next adventure, Keiji finds himself reaching out as well, simple infatuation be damned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am now free from this semester!! Goodbye chemistry!!!   
> Also, I will be traveling over the next day or so and will try my hardest to update tomorrow but can make no promises, sorry!


	19. Thursday, December 19th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super self-indulgent (as if this entire fic isn't) and me attempting to add plot?? Maybe if you squint... But I hope you enjoy nonetheless!!

Editing the photos he took for everyone takes longer than he expected - because he took so many, thanks for that Past-Keiji - but is also so much more fun than he anticipated it would be. When Tooru and Suga come home, he’s laughing to himself as he flips through a series of photos that begins with Tooru sneaking up behind Suga and ends with the two of them in the snow while Daichi looks on, his expression a mixture of horror and complete amusement.

“What’s got you so amused?” Suga asks, as he kicks off his books and unwraps his scarf.

Tooru is right behind Suga, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Ooo Keiji is talking with a boy,” he says in his usual sing-song tone.

Keiji rolls his eyes. “Actually, I was just looking at a picture of two idiots slipping and falling into some snow. It’s pretty funny.”

Tooru’s grin lights up at that, and he throws his last shoe off before running and jumping onto the couch. He snuggles up next to Keiji, stares at the computer screen for a second then pouts. “Wait, that’s me!”

“I stand by my statement,” Keiji says, adjusting his arm slightly so that Tooru can rest his head on it as he returns to work.

“Suga!” Tooru calls, practically yelling in Keiji's ear. “Keiji’s being mean!”

Suga rolls his eyes as he crosses the living room, lifts Tooru’s legs when he gets to the couch, and plops himself down with a groan. “If this has anything to do with you trying to jump on my back and me ending up with snow down my pants then you deserve it.” 

Tooru sticks out his tongue and attempts to kick Suga, but Suga holds his feet in place with practiced ease.

“If you’re going to keep squirming, find another pillow,” Keiji says, but there’s no heat behind his words. Tooru stops moving anyway and the three of them fall into an easy silence. 

Keiji can’t actually remember the last time they had a night like this, where they could all pile together and just be. This isn’t to say that hanging out with friends and boyfriends alike isn’t it’s own kind of chaotic wonderful, but the three of them have always had a way of just existing together that Keiji loves more than he can describe. He continues to shuffle through the pictures while Suga pulls out a book, and Tooru scrolls through what looks like Twitter on his phone.

“For your holiday cards, would you like serious pictures or funny pictures?” Keiji asks after some time. “Or which would you like first? I can do both but not before Christmas.”

“If you could send me one of Daichi and I and one of the three of us, that would be enough for me,” Suga says, looking up from his book. “I’d just like to send something to my parents to prove to them that this semester didn't kill me.”

“If you have one that’s embarrassing for Hajime I’ll take it,” Tooru says, leaning into Keiji’s side to look at him better. “I think his mother would appreciate it.”

“Embarrassing how?” Keiji said as he typed out a few quick notes to himself and send a text to Tetsurou and Kenma asking about their preferences.

“A picture where I look good and he doesn’t!” Tooru declares after a moment, and Keiji hums to say that he’s heard and gets to looking through the pictures, finding the cutest one he can of Daichi and Suga - which is hard because all of their pictures are nauseatingly adorable - and a picture where Hajime is in mid-sneeze for Tooru. He also adds a picture where Hajime isn't smiling, and Tooru is looking at him fondly and knows the two of them will thank him later. 

He’s flipping through pictures, deleting the ones that are slightly out of alignment or focus, when Suga says suddenly, “so about Christmas cards.”

Keiji doesn’t have to look up to tell where Suga is looking and sighs. “I haven’t opened it.”

Suga tsks and Keiji can picture his unamused expression when he says, “And you were saying that  _ I _ was the one treating it like a bomb.”

“I’m not treating it like a bomb,” Keiji says, maybe a little too sharply, but he’s working and Suga is disturbing his genius, that’s why he’s annoyed. It has nothing to do with his parents. “I’ve been busy with work.”

“Ahhh yes, because going on dates is such work,” Tooru says, grinning unapologetically. 

Tooru yelps as Keiji elbows him in the ribs but doesn’t move from his spot. “It wasn’t a date," Keiji mumbles. 

“But it could have been.”

“Should have been,” Suga corrects.

Keiji groans. “Why did I tell either of you about that?”

“Because you love us!” Tooru chimes and buries deeper into Keiji’s side. “And we love you, which is why we’ll give you shit for accidentally asking out the guy you’re crushing on.”

Keiji’s chest expands with a sudden flood of affection for the two men beside him, both of whom would support him without asking for anything in return and who he’d do the same for. Does the same for. Instead of saying any of that, he just mutters “saps” under his breath and returns his attention to his computer screen.

“You know what this moment requires?” Suga says, snapping his book shut after another quiet moment.

Tooru sets his phone down on his stomach. “Shitty wine?”

“No…” Suga says quickly, then takes a moment to think about it and nods. “Well, yes, but not what I was going for. I was going to say, a fireplace!”

“The wine’s a better bet,” Keiji says. “Because last I checked, our apartment doesn’t come with a fireplace.”

“Our apartment doesn’t,” Suga agrees and leans across the table to snatch up the remote. “But our television does!”

He turns on the tv and for a few seconds just flips through channel after channel until he gets to one that is, in fact, just the crackling of a fireplace. Keiji sinks into the couch cushions and leans into Tooru’s warmth ever so slightly and takes a moment to just breathe and be. The silence is nice, relaxing, and something about the crackling sounds of a fake fire makes it all the more enjoyable.

“I still want wine,” Tooru says, breaking the comfortable silence.

Suga laughs but gets up from his seat anyway. He brings back a bottle of something and three plastic wine glasses - they’re not red solo cups because they have some class, but they aren’t glass either because either Tooru or Suga cannot be trusted with glass when they are slightly inebriated. They learned that the hard way Sophmore year. The wine isn’t good. Frankly, Keiji doesn't think any wine is really good, but it takes the edge off, makes the moment warmer and more enjoyable. 

“I really do think you should have talked to him,” Suga says after a quiet moment when the three of them had been watching the fake fireplace. It’s actually pretty interesting and doesn’t look real at all but Keiji supposes that it has its own charm. 

Keiji shuts his laptop and leans back into the couch, closing his eyes. “Not this topic again.”

“I’m serious, Keiji,” Suga says, and his playful joking tone is gone, replaced with the serious-parent-voice he always uses to scold Tooru for not doing the dishes or Keiji for forgetting to sweep. “You seem really into him, and I know that scares you, especially after Mika, but that can be part of the conversation. In fact, that should be part of the conversation.”

“And it will, when I’m ready to have a conversation,” Keiji insists, takes another sip of shitty wine then sighs. “Why are you even so invested in this? It’s not like… romance isn’t everything. It's not a necessity for life.”

“You’re right,” Suga agrees easily. “It isn’t, but it makes you happy. _H_ _ e _ makes you happy. Keiji, you’re enjoying the holiday season for the first time… for the first time since I’ve known you, and I think that says something.”

“I’m not enjoying it,” Keiji grumbles into his glass.

“You’re not hating it,” Tooru chimes in, and sits up so that he can drink from his wine glass. He turns to face Suga fully, which basically puts him in Suga’s lap, not that Suga seems bothered by the new seating arrangement, just shifts slightly so that both he and Tooru are comfortable and facing Keiji. “Besides, if you’re worried about cheating-”

“Koutarou would never cheat,” Keiji says with such ferocity it surprises even him and his blinks before regaining his composure. “He’d never do that. To anyone. That’s not the problem, it’s just… I don’t even know if he’s into guys! And if he is, I don’t know if he’s even into  _ me _ .”

When Keiji turns to them, Suga and Tooru meet his desperate gaze with blank and unamused stares of their own.

“I’m serious,” Keiji says.

“So are we,” Suga replies, and then his seriousness melts away a little bit and that school-teacher warmth is back. “Keiji you must see the way he looks at you.”

“He’s a kind person.”

“Suga’s right,” Tooru says after taking another large sip from his glass, “He really likes you. It’s obvious.”

“You don’t get to lecture me on what’s obvious,” Keiji huffs, “not after pinning helplessly after Hajime for  _ years _ only to realize he was pinning in return during our freshman year! _Years_ , Tooru. Years.”

Tooru kicks his leg, lightly though as to not spill any wine. “If anything, that just makes me all the more qualified to lecture you.”

“Besides, Koutarou and I haven’t known each other for that long. It hasn’t even been a month!” 

Suga shrugs. “Weirder things have happened.”

“I’d rather they didn’t, not this time of year.” 

Suga frowns, sets his glass of wine down and reaches around Tooru to squeeze Keiji’s knee. The touch is warm and grounding in a way Keiji hadn’t even realized he needed. “I know it’s big and scary, especially when you haven’t felt like this in a while, but think about it. Okay? All it takes is a little bravery.”

Keiji looks at his lap but mumbles “okay” anyway before finishing off his glass. He hands Suga his wine glass - only because he was offering, he would have cleaned it himself, he’s not that much of an ass - and rises from the couch, laptop in hand. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Goodnight!” Tooru bounds up, wine splashing at the edge of his glass, but before he can make a mess, Suga plucks the glass from his hand, which allows Tooru to throw his arms around Keiji and pull him into a bone-crushing hug. “Just remember we love you, and if he even breathes in your direction wrongly I will personally tear out his throat.”

Keiji laughs at that and rubs Tooru’s back, thanking him softly before they pull away. Suga is next, though he is much more careful with his hug as he has three glasses in his hand to balance. “Night Keiji, take care.”

Keiji rolls his eyes, bids them one last goodnight and slips off into his room. He changes, showers quickly, brushes his teeth and is about to flop into bed and turn off the light when something catches his eye. The letter sits on his desk where he’d left it, neatly curved letters blinking up at him. His gut clenches. 

A little bravery. As Suga said, that’s all it takes. That all he needs. He might not have bravery with Koutarou, but he can have bravery about this. It's one letter. How much harm could it do?

He doesn’t allow himself time to overthink the question, just takes a breath, reaches forward and opens the letter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, for any of you traveling around the holidays, I hope you have safe and easy journeys. Take care, all <3


	20. Friday, December 20th

Keiji sits next to Koutarou, their arms brush up against each other every time one of them moves, and their legs are pressed together from hip to ankle. Keiji doesn't think about it. Instead, his eyes are fixed strictly on his computer that balances carefully across both of their laps. They’re looking at photos that Keiji edited yesterday, trying to find an assortment of the best ones to send to Koutarou’s family. Keiji’s attention is wholly on the computer screen, not on the muscles pressed against his arms or the heat radiating for Koutarou. Nope, none of those things are on his mind. In fact, they're so far out of his mind he doesn’t think of them at all. 

Still, he’s so distracted he doesn’t hear Tooru when he comes in and jumps when he finally notices the person leaning against the wall, smirking at him. Thankfully, Koutarou is there and ready to catch Keiji’s laptop and places it carefully on the coffee table after he does so. 

“You two look cozy,” Tooru says and his smile only grows when Keji shoots him a warning glare. “If you’re not terribly busy with _work_ …” He looks right at Keiji and winks. Winks, and that’s what does it. Keiji turns bright red and he’s going to kill Tooru. That’s the only solution. He'll apologize to Hajime later, though honestly the other man is bound to understand. 

“What is it?” Keiji says through his teeth, hoping his blush isn’t as obvious as it feels.

“Hajime and I just came up with a great group bonding activity!” Tooru says excitedly, and pauses for a moment to let the drama building. Keiji is already terrified of what’s about to come out of his mouth. His terror is confirmed when Tooru says, “It’s ice skating!”

“Absolutely not,” Keiji says right as Koutarou cheers. Keiji turns to him, betrayed. “Really? _You_ like ice skating?”

“I used to go all the time with my siblings, but I haven’t gone this year. I’m probably a little rusty but… it’s still so much fun.”

Keiji should have known. He should have fucking known. He sinks into the couch, crosses his arms, and says like the grinch he is, “go have fun without me.”

“What? No. Come on Keiji, don’t be a grouch.” Koutarou nudges him and his words don’t sound disappointed, he doesn’t seem disappointed or even annoyed with Keiji. Instead, he’s wearing that fond smile that Keiji is all too aware now of thanks to Tooru and Suga’s conversation last night. “You have to come.”

“I don’t though.”

“Nope, that’s it. You’re coming,” Tooru declares and marches forward. He grabs Keiji’s limp wrists and pulls. “Up and at ’em!”

“What happened to no means no?” Keiji grumbles but allows Tooru to pull him to his feet. 

“Do you really not wanna go?” Tooru asks sincerely, looking into Keiji’s eyes and giving his hands a little squeeze. 

Keiji sighs. He doesn’t, but also he knows he’s being a dramatic baby and he should. It won’t be terrible, besides, if everyone is going then he and Kenma can stand on the side and laugh at all the people who fall, especially when it’s their friends. “Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not stepping on the ice.”

Tooru and Koutarou both cheer like the small children they are, and Keiji can’t help but smile and shake his head. 

“This is so great!” Tooru says, dragging Keiji towards the door, Koutarou one step behind. “Suga and Daichi are gonna meet us there, we just need to pick up Tetsu and Ken as well!”

“You know he hates it when you call him that,” Keiji says, but laughs anyway. He pulls his hand free from Tooru’s grasp gently and when Tooru turns and pouts at him says, “let me grab my camera and actually put some shoes on and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

* * *

The skating rink isn’t as packed as Keiji expected it to be on a Friday afternoon in the middle of December. It’s filled with the occasional couple and a few groups of teenagers lazily skating around in circles and racing each other until at least one of them fell. Keiji stands off to the side as Tooru, Hajime, Suga, and Daichi all wander off to get their skates.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try?’ Koutarou asks, hanging around. He has that damn puppy-dog look on that makes his eyes appear twice as large and three times as golden. 

Keiji ignores what that look does to his chest, shakes his head, and lifts his camera. “I'm on picture duty, remember?”

“But we have enough pictures!”

“Not of you all skating.”

Koutarou pouts. “It’ll be no fun without you though.”

Keiji's chest does not tighten around his poor little heart, no sir. And if it does he ignores it dutifully, smiles, and says, “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun. You have Tetsurou!”

“It’s not the same.”

Keiji rolls his eyes, thinks about it for a moment, then replies carefully, “if I’m not on the rink I can watch you better because I won’t be focused on trying not to fall.”

“You’ll watch me?” Koutarou asks, perking up almost instantly.

“Yes, I will. Now go they’re waiting,” Keiji says and pushes Koutarou in the direction of the rink. 

Koutarou gives him one last smile, makes Keiji promise he’ll watch him for a second time, which he does, and then heads off to the rink. Truth is, promise or not, Keiji would have been watching Koutarou anyway. He said that he goes to skate every year, and yet, to Keiji’s surprise, he’s good. He’s not good in the way a professional skater is. He can’t do tricks or jump or anything, but he has an ease about him when skating and it’s really quite beautiful to watch. He’s confident and comfortable and even manages to skate backward a little bit, until he runs into Tetsurou and sends both of them sprawling on the ice. Keiji did get a picture of that. 

The problem with Keiji not being able to take his eyes off of Koutarou is the fact that he needs to take pictures of _all_ of his friends, not just the one friend he has an unfortunate and hopeless crush on. 

“Koutarou’s good isn’t he?” Kenma says from beside Keiji and Keiji nearly jumps but gets a hold of himself before he startles too badly. Wow, he’s really out of it, isn’t he?

“Yes, he is…” Keiji mumbles, raises his camera, and takes a pointed picture of Daichi and Suga holding hands around the edge of the rink. 

If Kenma noticed it - and he definitely did, he’s far too observant for his own good - he’s polite enough not to bring up Keiji’s embarrassing reaction, and only hums. There’s a moment of comfortable silence between them, silence with Kenma is never uncomfortable, before he says, “you really like him, don’t you?”

It’s a good thing Keiji put the strap on his camera because it slips out of his fingers and hangs uselessly against his check. “Oh god…” Keiji mumbles as his heartbeat takes off like a jet plane. “Is it that obvious?”

Kenma pauses for a moment and then says quietly, “would it make you feel better if I lied and said no?”

Keiji hangs his head in shame. Then asks, so very quietly he isn’t even sure if Kenma hears him, “do you think he knows?” He can’t help the fear that creeps into his voice. If Koutarou knows about Keiji’s crush and is choosing to ignore it… well, Keiji can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. His brain spends too much time panicking about it.

“Koutarou is…” Kenma starts and then stops himself and Keiji’s stomach drops to the floor. Oh my god, what if he’s in another relationship? It’s never come up, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible and… “He’s a bit dense when it comes to these things,” Kenma concludes and Keiji releases so much air from his lungs he’s worried for a moment that he’s going to pass out. 

He leans heavily against the railing of the rink, hiding his overheating face in the crook of his arm. “Is that a yes or a no?” he croaks, lifting his head slightly to sneak a peek at Kenma.

Unfortunately for him, Kenma has that look in his eye, and Keiji is suddenly aware that Kenma knows the answer but isn’t going to tell him. He’s saved from actually answering Keiji's question by Tetsurou and Koutarou careening up to them, stopping only by running directly into the railing. Keiji stands up straight, hoping that he doesn't look too flushed and wild-eyed, but it seems that he'll be spared the embarrassment of either Tetsurou or Koutarou noticing because they clearly have other things on their minds. 

“Keiji,” Koutarou says with complete desperation. He sounds out of breath and his eyes are wide and expectant.

“Yes?” Keiji replies, more than a little worried as to what he’s about to agree to do.

Koutarou takes a breath then says all too loudly, “Do you think me or Tetsu would win a skating race?”

“What?”

“I would win, right Kenma? I’m more agile than that lug,” Tetsurou hits Koutarou’s chest for emphasis. “I’d definitely win.”

Kenma watches Tetsurou for a moment then says, “if you didn’t fall, maybe.”

“I do not fall!” Tetsurou scoffs.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

Kenma sighs, exasperated. “Do too. You were on the ground not two minutes ago.”

“I was testing the ice for firmness,” Tetsurou mumbles, cheeks reddening slightly. Kenma doesn’t look convinced.

“We’ll just have to settle this with an actual race then,” Koutarou declares and before Keiji and bring up how there are other people in the rink and this is just a bad idea overall, he continues, steamrolling ahead, “we’ll start here and go around the entire rink. First-person back here wins.”

Tetsurou’s eyes narrow and his smile sharpens into his characteristically-sharp smirk. “Oh you’re on owl-head.”

“We should stop them,” Keiji says quietly to Kenma.

“It’s no use,” Kenma replies with a shake of his head. “Plus, if they run into someone else it might be kinda funny.”

Keiji can’t really argue with that, and as Koutarou and Tetsurou set up for their race, Keiji readies his camera. You know, just in case. Kenma gives the go and they’re off around the rink, weaving in and around people. Suga and Daichi jump to the side as they go back, Suga loudly cheering them on. Tooru and Hajime aren’t quite as lucky and end up getting plowed through, which sends Hajime against the rail and Tooru flailing like a baby-duck in the center of the rink. Keiji snaps a quick picture of that. 

Koutarou and Tetsurou round the last corner, skillfully avoiding a group of teenagers who have stopped their skating to pull out their phones and film to race, and are nearing the finish line when Tetsurou lunges too far forward and his skate slides out from under him. He goes flying, face forward, onto the ice, and Koutarou reaches Keiji and Kenma first.

“I won!” He cheers. “Keiji I won! Now you have to come onto the ice.”

Keiji blinks up from his camera, where he’d been flipping through the pictures of the race and the subsequent falls that occurred during said race. “That was never part of the deal.”

“But I won and now you have to celebrate with me,” Koutarou declares loudly and proudly, puffing out his chest, and Keiji does not take note of how his turtle-necked sweater hugs his frame perfectly. Nope, absolutely not.

“I don’t skate…” Keiji says, but Kenma is already reaching over and tugging on Keiji’s camera strap.

“I want to see the one where Kuro falls,” he says as way of explanation and takes the camera from around Keiji’s neck. “I can also get a few of you if you’d like.”

Keiji sighs but sees no way to argue, and lets Kenma take his camera, before walking towards the entrance of the rink. Koutarou follows along the rail. “Yay! Keiji’s gonna skate,” he sings.

“You are much too excited about watching me fall,” Keiji grumbles.

“You won’t fall,” Koutarou says simply, like it’s obvious. Like he’s seen Keiji skate a hundred times and knows how good he is (the actual answer is he’s not good at all). “And even if you do, I’ll be here to catch you. So don’t worry.”

And Keiji isn’t worried, not about that anymore, but he is worried about his heart and it’s unsteady pulse. If it continues like this he might actually have to talk to Tooru, maybe it’s a health concern. It certainly feels like a health concern. 

He pays at the booth, tucks his shoes away in a little cubby, and slips on the skates. They’re heavy and clunky and feel so _wrong_. Keiji can barely walk to the rink without one of his ankles threatening to twist, so he knows he’s screwed once he gets on the ice. He does so anyway and immediately hugs the rail. It’s cold and wet and he can feel the slick under the thick blades on his feet. He already regrets his decision.

Koutarou is by his side in an instant. “Come on, let’s go,” Koutarou says, holding out his hand.

Keiji hugs the railing tighter. “I think I’m okay right here,” he says through chattering teeth - both from the cold and his ever-present fear of making a fool of himself and ending up on his ass. 

“But the railing is no fun,” Koutarou laughs.

“The railing is safe.”

“I got you,” Koutarou says so earnestly and with that damn adorable smile that has Keiji wish, _hoping,_ that even a quarter of what he feels is reciprocated. With a shaking breath, Keiji reaches out and grabs onto Koutarou’s hand. When he releases the railing his grip tightens.

They start skating slowly, and Keiji’s skates slide out from under him, threatening to go in every direction. His breath shortens, and in his panic, his skates slide more. His ankle twists and he readies himself for the inevitable impact of the cold ice, but it never comes. Koutarou simple pulls him closer and steadies him gently, one hand on his waist, holding him up.

“You’re really bad at this, aren’t you Keiji?” He sounds way too happy about that fact.

“I told you I was, didn’t I?” Keiji says through gritted teeth. They pass over a particularly slick portion of ice, and Keiji grabs hold of the hand on his side, making sure it stays there, and with his other hand grips Koutarou's sweater. 

“But you say that about a lot of things and it’s rarely true, so I just didn’t believe you,” Koutarou replies simply.

Keiji grits his teeth. “I know my weaknesses.”

“It’s not a weakness, it’s just not a skill you have. But you have lots of other skills, _amazing_ skills, so this is just one that you can learn,” Koutarou says, steadying Keiji as a group of teens skate by easily, and Keiji’s shame grows and shows itself in the red of his cheeks. “I can teach you! Then you won’t have to be so scared.”

Keiji won’t argue there. He’s terrified, and it probably shows on his face and every other part of his body. Still, he agrees with a little nod, because he’s out in the middle of a skating rink and there isn’t a lot he can do besides cling to Koutarou and ignore the way his heart flutters every time he’s pulled closer. 

The rest of the afternoon goes by in a mixture of skating lessons and goofing off. When he finally lets go of Koutarou’s arm, albeit reluctantly, he’s immediately scooped up by Suga and Tooru. They end up in a pile not two minutes later. When they’re tired of skating but still have too much energy to return home with, they find themselves in a little coffee shop, sipping hot chocolates and crowding around Keiji’s camera to see the pictures he, and later Kenma, took. They vote on the best-photo, which goes to Tooru who looks good doing anything; the cutest photo, which is easy awarded to Suga and Daichi who shared a very adorable kiss in the middle of the rink - the fact that it ended a moment later because Daichi fell and pulled Suga down with him is ignored; and then most spectacular fall, which Tetsurou wins in a landslide with his face-first-racing-fail.

They’re walking to the bus, huddling in the coats against the New England wind, when Koutarou ends up beside Keiji. “So, did you have fun?”

“Falling? Not particularly,” Keiji says.

Koutarou rolls his eyes. “Overall.”

Keiji drops his gaze to his shoes, watching the snow and ice crunch under his boots. “I mean… I didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would.”

Koutarou laughs and throws an arm over Keiji’s shoulders pulling him into his side, and much like when he was skating, it feels like the world is about to slide right under Keiji’s feet. “I knew you would! I was right, wasn’t I?” Koutarou says, giving Keiji’s shoulder a little squeeze.

Keiji takes the opportunity to snuggle deeper into Koutarou’s side and mumbles a very soft, “yes.”

“What was that.”

Keiji pushes himself off of Koutarou’s side and ducks under his arm. “It was fine,” he says, dutifully ignoring the way his face heats up and his heart jumps. Keiji looks up ahead. The bus stop they need is half a block down, and a bus is pulling up to it. Their bus, which doesn’t come for another forty-five minutes. 

He and Kotarou look at each other, the rest of the group is behind them, blissfully unaware that their ride is here. Koutarou lunges for Keiji hand yelling, “run!” and together they take off down the ice-covered sidewalk, the others right on their heels. As Keiji barrels down the street, Koutarou’s hand warm and heavy in his own, and for the first time in a long time, he’s not afraid of falling.


	21. Saturday, December 21st

Keiji is the first one up, which is surprising, to say the least. He sits up in bed checks his phone and stares at the open letter by his bedside table that he can’t quite bring himself to respond to or throw away. It stares at him, daring him to make up his mind, and once again he ignores it in favor of getting out of bed - another miracle, who his he today? - and wanders into the kitchen, where he confirms that he is, in fact, the first person up.

Suga should be getting up shortly for coffee and Tooru likely won’t be far behind. It’s not like it’s particularly early, and they did all promise they’d have a french-toast brunch. Keiji had gone out and bought the brioche and everything. He could probably wait half an hour, but he has nothing else he needs to do and doesn’t particularly want to think about the letter his parents sent him and his response or none-response, so he starts the coffee maker and begins pulling milk and eggs from the first, and bowls from the cabinets. 

The kitchen feels empty though, and Keiji can’t think of why, except that he feels like something, someone is missing. It’s too quiet. To think that just a week ago he used to cook in silence and now it feels wrong and foreign. He doesn't think too hard about it, just pulls out his phone and shuffles the first playlist that comes up. He should have paid more attention because what starts playing is Christmas music. He reaches to change it but then looks at the date. The twenty-fourth. It’s so close. He closes his phone and lets the music play. 

Alone, he lets himself bob his head to the music and break eggs to the beat. He whisks in time and falls into the bright cheer the holiday music brings. It’s relaxing and reminds him too much of a certain down-stairs neighbor who plays music too loudly, wears ridiculous hats and sweaters, and has the most attractive smile Keiji has ever seen. 

He places the pan onto the stove just as Pentatonix fades and Ariana Grande’s voice pierces through the silence. The words are in his mouth before he can help it. It’s a catchy song, sue him. He hums and sings about true love and Christmases to come, and tries not to think about how pertinent _Santa Tell Me_ is to his life. It’s a bit weird that Suga and Tooru aren’t already up, but he doesn’t think about it, everyone deserves a day to sleep in. The coffee maker hums that it's finished, and Keiji pours two cups, one for himself and one for Suga, who, like him, needs coffee to function in the morning.

The chorus starts up and the beat grows louder and Keiji bops along, placing the plate in the microwave to keep the French toast warm. Something clatters to the floor behind him. For a moment, Keiji thinks the spatula slipped off the counter, but the sound was too distant and too heavy. He turns around quickly and is so glad he’s no longer holding the plate, because he would have dropped it upon seeing three disembodied heads peering around the corner. 

So he doesn’t drop the non-existent plate in his hand, but he does screech in a most undignified fashion. Koutarou is the first around the corner apologizing profusely. Tooru and Suga don’t quite make it into the kitchen before they’re on the ground laughing so hard tears prickle at the corners of their eyes.

“That sound,” Tooru wheezes. “I didn’t know humans were capable of making such a noise.”

“You’re face!” Suga says between fits of laughter.

Keiji’s face is flushed red with embarrassment and he turns to Koutarou with a pleading look. “How long were you three spying on me?”

“Not long,” Koutarou insists, but he’s just as red and still a little wide-eyed, but Keiji doesn’t get a chance to think too much about that.

“Since the first chorus of _Santa Tell Me_ ,” Suga says from the floor. 

Keiji contemplates chasing them out of the kitchen, withholding Suga’s coffee and their French toast, but eventually just sighs, turns to Koutarou, who’s watching him with wide and terrified eyes, like he’s aware of the power Keiji holds over his breakfast, and says, “since you’re the only functioning adult in the room, can you set the table?”

Koutarou nods furiously and starts grabbing forks and knives and plates. As he’s off working, Keiji turns to Suga and Tooru who have not gotten themselves off the ground and quite frankly look perfectly happy to continue sitting there. “Either get out of the kitchen or make yourself useful,” he demands and then goes back to finishing making French toast.

“Someone hasn’t had his coffee,” Tooru mumbles.

"Only because I've been making breakfast for you ungrateful-asshole. Now get up and make yourselves useful," he says with a warning glare. Tooru and Suga scramble to their feet.

Twelve minutes later, the table is pulled out and all the chairs are piled around it. Kenma and Tetsurou are out, so there are only six of them. But even then they barely fit around the table. It’s messy and chaotic, and so many crumbs and drops of syrup end up on the floor, which Keiji knows will be a bitch to clean, but it’s fun and easy and Keiji doesn’t think about the letter waiting for him in his room once. Or, maybe he thinks about it once, but the thought doesn’t linger.

Tooru and Suga are on clean-up duty in the living room - this is what they get for bothering him this morning - and Keiji is in the kitchen doing the dishes. Koutarou, unsurprisingly, ends up beside him and they wash and dry with practiced ease.

“You have a really good voice,” Koutarou says so suddenly and so quietly, Keiji almost doesn’t catch it over the sound of rushing water.

“What… I… Oh. Thank you,” Keiji mumbles. 

“It’s true!”

“I appreciate it,” Keiji says because it’s all that he can think of saying while his face burns. 

They go back to washing and drying in silence, but there’s something there and Keiji can’t ignore it. It’s a new tension and Keiji isn’t sure if it’s good or bad, because it’s something, but he really can’t tell what. And is it hotter in the room or is that just him?

“You’re thinking about something,” Koutarou says and there’s a soft and warm quality to his voice. “Do you want to talk about it.”

Keiji lets out a breath through his lips, shakes his head, then considers the offer and says carefully, “my parents sent me a letter a while ago and I… opened it.”

“Oh,” Koutarou replies, and it sounds like he isn’t sure whether to apologize or congratulate Keiji, and frankly Keiji feels much the same about the whole situation. “What… how are you feeling?” 

“I don’t know,” Keiji replies. He’s stopped washing dishes and is just letting the hot water fun over his hands. It burns slightly, but it’s grounding too, keeps him present. “They asked me to visit them for new years.”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know!” Keiji gasps and then hangs his head and apologies for the outburst.

He doesn’t even realize that Koutarou has turned off the water until a soft towel is wrapped carefully around his hands. Koutarou starts drying his hands so carefully and slowly, but the gentle motions help soothe Keiji’s rapidly shortening breath. 

“This is the first time they’ve invited me back for… well, anything.”

The drying pauses momentarily, and Koutarou looks up from his work, his eyes wide and concerned. “What? You haven’t been back for Christmas or New Years?”

Keiji shakes his head. “Not since coming to college. They didn’t want to ‘cause drama,’” Keiji laughs dryly in hopes of hiding the way his voice cracked around the words. He meets Koutarou’s questioning gaze and his chest tightens. 

For how much they’ve hung out they’ve never really breached the topic of sexuality. Keiji knows that there’s a small rainbow flag sticker on the corner of his laptop, but half the population of the university has them in solidarity, it doesn’t necessarily mean something. He hates how much his chest tightens. It always does this. He’s not ashamed, not anymore. He’s not bothered, but the very idea that someone _could_ cut him off for the words he’s about to say still gives him pause. 

He takes a careful breath, and Koutarou, likely sensing that Keiji has something important to say, stops his drying and waits patiently. Keiji looks up, meets Koutarou’s warm and open gaze, and says steadily and distantly, “I haven’t been invited back for Christmas since I came out to them. They’re fine with having a gay son, but they don’t want to, ‘put out or make any family members uncomfortable,’ their words, not mine.” 

Koutarou gives his hands a gentle squeeze through the towel. “Keiji that’s… I’m sorry.”

Keiji shrugs and pulls away. He turns on the tap again and starts washing the silverware he hasn’t gotten to you. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. I haven’t spent the holidays alone.”

“Is that why you don’t like them?” Koutarou asks. “The holidays.”

“One reason,” Keiji admits softly. “It’s hard to feel warm and fuzzy when… well, when your own parents choose distant aunts and uncles over you.” 

Koutarou hums softly, and gently takes the fork Keiji had been scrubbing a bit too ferociously from his hand. 

“I just don’t know what to do, or why they want this now. It’s been four years. I thought… well, I thought we were adjusting, but I didn’t think we were adjusting this fast.”

“Do you want to visit them?”

Keiji shrugs. “I don’t know. I love them, they’re my parents and they don’t hate me but it’s… It’s weird. I don’t know. Sorry for making you listen to all of this.”

“No!” Koutarou says quickly, desperately. “Don’t apologize. I love listening to you, and I’m sorry that this happened, it's not fair! You don’t deserve it, and I know there isn’t much I can do but if I can help in anyway…”

You are enough. Just being here with you is enough, is what Keiji would say if he had any amount of bravery. Instead, he stares at the running water and says carefully, “thank you, that means a lot.”

“Keiji!” Tooru calls from the living room and then peers into the kitchen. “Don’t you have work at two?”

Keiji's attention snaps to the clock above the stove. “Shit! Yes, I do,” Keiji says and starts scrubbing the silverware more frantically.

Koutarou takes the sponge and the dishes from his hands carefully. “I’ll finish this up.”

“But-”

He shakes his head. “Go.”

Koutarou meets his eyes, his warm and impossibly golden eyes, and the warmth that floods through him threatens to consume him. How is he this sweet? This observative. Keiji blinks, meets Koutarou’s gaze, and says with as much feeling as he can muster, “thank you.”

If Koutarou understands what Keiji really means is unclear. He just smiles and goes back to washing the dishes, humming as he does so. Keiji turns and races out of the room to dress and head to work, ignoring the way Tooru smiles at him as he passes.

——

He’s at work when he gets a text from Tooru.

_Today 2:11pm_

From: ✨The Worst✨💯🏳️🌈

What were you saying about him not liking you?

Keiji ignores it, and turns his attention to the next customer, hoping his face isn’t too red.


	22. Sunday, December 22nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to holiday prep, this chapter was written this morning and edited super minimally, so I'm sorry it's not up the standard of the other chapters. I hope you all enjoy it anyway! Also, for those of you who celebrate, Happy Hannukah!

Keiji wasn’t sure what to expect when Koutarou had texted him that morning telling him to bring a gift - any gift, but nothing too serious was the exact wording - for an exchange of sorts that evening, but it certainly wasn’t this. Whatever  _ this _ is, which he’s still not sure exactly. 

They’re all seated in a circle on the floor of Tetsurou and Kenma’s duplex, a pile of gifts sitting in the middle of the pile. Each gift is wrapped in copious amounts of tissue paper, as specifically requested by Koutarou and Tetsurou. It makes for an interesting pile of odd-shapes and hideous colors. None of the tissue paper matches, and together the gifts look like all of Santa’s Rejects that were thrown together on to one pile. 

Tetsurou rubs his hands together rather maniacally, and there’s a glint to his smirk, but Kenma doesn’t look too bothered so Keiji isn’t nervous quite yet. He turns to Koutarou, who is sitting on one of his sides, but before he can ask, Tetsurou looks around the group and says, “you’re probably wondering why I called you here today.” He takes a sip of his beer, likely for dramatic effect - he and Tooru are similar in that regard - before continuing, “we have all survived a great hardship, our first semester of our senior year. To celebrate our own success and each other's success we should share in a great ritual. The giving of gifts!”

Koutarou cheers and applauds loudly. Tooru and Suga join in with a mixture of polite clapping. Kenma just meets Keiji’s gaze from across the circle with a look that says how unsurprised he is by this behavior, and beside him, Tetsurou basks under the attention with a small bow. “We have each brought a gift today. One by one, we shall take a gift and start passing it around, taking off a layer of tissue paper. Whoever tears off the last layer of tissue paper gets to keep the present. Sounds good?”

Everyone nods, and Keiji eyes the pile with growing discomfort. His gift isn’t too bad. It’s honestly really harmless, but considering the people he’s sitting in this circle with maybe he should have found something with a bigger punch. Tetsuro plucks the first tissue-paper wrapped gift from the pile, rips off the first layer and starts passing the gift around, person by person. It becomes clear that it’s a box of sorts, and as the layers peel away there is some design on the front of the box, but Keiji can’t quite make out what it is. 

He passes it to Koutarou, who pulls off another layer of wrapping, pauses briefly, then hands it off to Tetsurou. When Tetsurou rips off another piece of wrapping, he pauses, stares at the box for a moment, then passes it to Kenma with an uncontained smile. Kenma looks at him, looks at the box and sighs. 

He takes off the last piece of wrapping and studied in front of the box for a moment before looking up and straight at Tooru with a deadpanned and oh-so done expression. “What the hell am I going to use this for?” he asks and turns the box around. The cover says it all. A bright red and bulging dildo spans across most of the box with the words “the drake” written in curving letters above this.

Tooru’s eyes gleam. “Well, most people would use it to-”

“I know what most people would use it for. But what good is that when I’m ace?” Kenma says and Tooru breaks into a fit of giggles He looks down at the box, shakes his head, but there’s a smile that curls the corner of his lips as he backs out of the circle, dildo-box still resting in his lap.

Tooru’s gift sets the tone and the rest of the night does not disappoint. The next round ends with Koutarou winning an assortment of weird candles, whose scents range from tequila that was so strong it had even Tooru gaging to ‘Netflix & Chill’ scented, whatever that meant. Daichi, on the other hand, ends up with a calendar for the year that was just wrapping up. Tooru gets a very pointed self-help book titled  _ How to not be an Asshole  _ \- Kenma thinks it was very appropriate - and Hajime ends up with a box of dick pasta and a dick-shaped bar of soap that had Tooru laughing so hard beer shot out of his nose. Suga is gifted with a bright yellow minion onesie that he put on immediately and cuddled up Daichi while Tooru watches, horrified that Suga isn’t bothered because, “it’s minions, Suga. They’re cursed.  _ Cursed _ !” 

Tetsurou ends up with Keiji’s gift, and Keiji honestly can’t think of a more perfect person to receive it. He unwraps it carefully, it’s a framed picture, looks at it for a moment, and turns to Keiji with a frown. “It wasn’t that funny!” 

Keiji shrugs. “I happen to disagree.”

“Well, come on now. Share with the class,” Suga giggles over his beer, while trying to use his teacher's voice, which is only so effective while he’s tipsy. 

With a groan, Tetsurou flips the frame around. It’s an eight and a half by eleven framed photo of Tetsurou sliding across the ice face first. Everyone giggles, even Kenma who says something softly under his breath and Tetsurou glares at him. 

“We are  _ not _ hanging it in the bedroom!” 

While they bicker back and forth without heat, Tooru reaches into the center of the circle, or where the center of the circle used to be, and passes the last gift to Keiji. “Looks like this one is yours.”

Keiji unwraps the gift, and a little red doll with blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and an unsettling smile, falls into his lap. Tooru’s giggle starts back up again, but at this point, it’s likely the drink, but even Tetsurou looks up and says, “oh damn that’s a good one.”

Keiji looks at the doll and then at Koutarou who is watching him expectantly. “What is it?” Keiji asks softly, hoping Koutarou can fill him in on the joke so that he can avoid a redo of the movie night.

Unfortunately, Koutarou’s gasp does not go unnoticed, especially when he exclaims loudly, “Keiji, do you not know what elf on the shelf is?”

“No…” Keiji stares at the little doll some more. It does look like an elf with its red hat and all. 

“What? But it’s prime and classic meme-culture,” Tetsurou says.

Keiji sighs. “I don’t live on the internet.”

Tetsurou shakes his head muttering something about “people and their lack of meme education” as Keiji picks up the little doll. Its smile is just… creepy. Still, he laughs, sets the thing next to him, takes another sip of his drink and falls back into easy conversation. 

——

It’s well past midnight when everyone begins packing and cleaning up. Daichi and Hajime, the most sober of the group, take it upon themselves to clean up the drinks and any other mess that the group made as a whole, while Suga and Tooru giggle in a corner and trying to steal more drinks. Tetsurou has passed out on the couch, with Kenma sitting by his feet sleepily playing his switch. Keiji takes the moment to slip off to the bag he left by the door and pull out the gift he’d been keeping in there. It’s carefully wrapped, and not in tissue-paper, but in actual gift wrapping. 

He stares at it and his stomach twists itself in knots. Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe he should just go upstairs, crawl into bed and-

“Keiji there you are!” Koutrou’s voice is much too loud for this late at night (or early in the morning, depending on what kind of person you are). “I thought you left.”

Keiji looks at the gift - it’s now or never, his brain helpfully supplies - and with a huff, turns around. “I was just grabbing something,” he says and then holds out the small box. “It’s for you. You can open it now or…”

His voice trails off as Koutarou cheers and launchest himself forward, pulling Keiji into a bone-crushing hug that almost crushes the present as well, luckily Keiji is able to protect it. “I love it!” Koutarou says.

“You haven’t even opened it.”

Koutarou reaches for the box then stops, turns around and sprints down the hall. Keiji stays rooted in place. His mind is fuzzy with alcohol and the need for sleep, so it takes him a moment to process what just happened. That Koutarou just ran away from him like a man on a mission. Was he gift that bad? 

He isn’t left alone to process the question for long because Koutarou is bad as suddenly as he had vanished, out of breath and with something in his hands. “I didn’t wrap it, but I was going to but then Tetsu distracted me… anyway.” Koutarou takes a deep breath and then thrusts his hands out in front of him. There’s a lump of green fabric across it but it’s covered in so many other textures Keiji can’t really tell what it is. “You said you didn’t have a Christmas sweater and I saw this, and Tetsu said it was a good idea, so I got it. For you.” Koutarou holds it out even more, then adds, very softly, “I thought it’d bring out your eyes.”

Keiji blinks at the fabric - too sleep to fully process the words Koutarou had said to him - it looks piled with tinsel and baubles, in the half-light of the entryway it’s hard to make anything out, but he reaches forward and trades the sweater for the little gift he wrapped for Koutarou. When Keiji holds it up, it’s definitely a sweater, with long sleeves and a cropped neck, but that’s where the resemblance ends. Wrapped all around the sweater is green garland, like the kind they put up around Keiji’s living room, as little red and gold and silver ornaments hang off the sweater as well. It honestly looks more like Keiji is holding a Christmas tree than a sweater.

“Aww it’s so cute!” Koutarou says suddenly, pulling Keiji from his sweater. He holds the bright red owl ornament carefully in his palms. “Thank you, I love it!” He says with a smile so bright Keiji has to look away. “How do you like the sweater.”

“It’s…” Keiji looks at it again and things about how much time Koutarou probably spent looking for it. Did he see it and think if Keiji immediately or did it take him hours of scouring and questioning and wondering if Keiji would like it, only to ultimately decide that he would. Decide that he’d look good in it. The sweater is ugly and ridiculous, but there was thought put into it, whether it be sudden or mulled over, it was thought and it was Koutarou thinking about Keiji, and something about that warm’s Keiji’s chest and makes his stomach bubble like champagne. 

He looks up from the sweater in his hand, meets Koutarou's eyes and gives him a warm and sleepy smile as he says, “it’s wonderful.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, for those of you curious, here's Keiji's new [christmas sweater](https://www.pinterest.es/pin/442126888413652773/).


	23. Monday, December 23rd

“It’s so _ugly_!” Tooru says, sounding genuinely shocked and a little delighted.

“It’s _so_ ugly…” Suga mumbles, pokes at it a bit, and then giggles.

“It’s so ugly,” Keiji agrees with a nod and scoops the sweater up in his arms. The ornaments hanging off of it jingle awkwardly against one another. There’s no good way to fold it, is what Keiji discovered this morning when he had awoken, rolled over, and saw a lump of fabric and Christmas decorations. He had tried to fold it to put it away and never look at it again, but between the decorations and the garland, it just wouldn’t fold.

“What are you gonna do with it?” Suga asks as Keiji turns to walk back to his room.

He stops and studies the garment in his hand and his face warms instantly as he recalls what Koutarou had said to him in the semi-darkness of the entryway. He hadn’t really had a chance to think about it, between the shock of the gift and the drinks in his system, but he could think about it now, which is exactly what his brain did.

With a groan, Keiji drops his face into the sweater. Maybe if he smothers himself he wouldn’t have to put up with these ridiculous thoughts and the equally ridiculous feelings they bring about.

“Keiji?” Suga says. A warm hand rests on his back and rubs slow circles into it. “Do you wanna talk about it.”

Keiji looks up from the sweater and shakes his head. He steps away from Suga’s and says, as he walks to his room, “Let’s just start setting up for the party.”

* * *

It wasn’t supposed to be an all-day thing, but of course, it turns into an all-day thing, especially when Tooru announces that he had invited a few more "friends." 

“How many is a few more?” Suga asks as he slips on his shoes to make an alcohol run. 

Tooru doesn’t respond right away which is always a bad sign, it either means he hasn’t thought about it, or he knows the answer and knows they won’t like it. 

Keiji sighs. “Is it more than twenty?”

“Well…” Tooru shifts in place and looks anywhere there isn’t at either Keiji or Suga, who has put on his shoes and now stands with his hands on his hips and his best disappointed-teacher-face on. 

“More than thirty?”

“Thirty-two isn’t _that_ much more than thirty,” Tooru says sheepishly.

Suga and Keiji groan. There’s no way thirty people - and that’s not even including the original eight of them - are going to fit into this duplex. They should’ve expected this. Tooru tended to gab a little too much for his own good, and sometimes for their own good as well. 

“We’ll have to move everything to the basement,” Suga says, shrugging on his coat. 

Keiji nods, it’s their only option, and Tooru whines, “we’re not throwing a trashy college basement party.”

“It won’t be trashy, but it _will_ be in the basement,” Sugas says, giving Tooru a pointed stare. “Unless, of course, you want to foot the fine for breaking fire code?”

Tooru grumbles but doesn’t fight him, and Suga looks as pleased as a parent who won an argument against their teen and continues, “now you two start taking decorations down from here and putting them up in the basement. I’ll be back with the booze.” And with that he’s gone and Keiji and Tooru have their task.

* * *

Koutarou walks in when Keiji and Tooru are halfway through taking down the decorations in the living room.

He has a panicked look on his face but before he can ask, Keiji says, “we’re moving everything down to the basement.” He eyes the box in Koutarou’s hands, full but not too full, and adds, “do you think you can bring down a few more things?”

With Koutarou and his - ~~amazing, spectacular,~~ ~~_muscular_ ~~ \- extra arms, they get all the decorations down in three trips, and then the real work begins. Keiji leaves the planning and the layout to Tooru and just does what he says when he says it. Koutarou follows Keiji's lead, and together they put up string lights, tape paper snowflakes to the wall, and start hanging garland off of the rafters. It turns the dark and damp basement into something warm and cozy, and the extra lights mean an actual ability to see. It’s not terrible, and while it’ll be a little crowded if all of Tooru’s extra friends show up, it’s better than having them all in the house. 

When they’re done with the decorations Keiji and Tooru brought down from their living room, they turn to the box of decorations that Koutarou had brought them - from Tetsurou’s living room, since this was really turning into a joint house-party. It’s just some more garland, a bit of holly, and some shiny red orbs they hang off of the garland, which reminds Keiji too much of the Christmas sweater in his room. Just as Keiji finishes putting up the last red ornament, Koutarou pulls out another plant, wrapped tightly in a red bow with a string attached that was meant for hanging. 

“Where would you like to hang the mistletoe?" Koutarou asks Tooru, eyes bright. It’s a completely innocent plant, but somehow the sight still makes his blood boil even after two years. 

Tooru considers it for a moment and then looks to Keiji. “I don’t think that’s up to me.”

Koutarou follows Tooru’s gaze and when he gets to Keiji his arm drops and his bright smile dims into something that’s more concern than anything else. “Keiji?” he asks, puts the mistletoe down, and starts walking over, “what’s wrong?”

Keiji hadn’t thought he looked _that_ upset, but maybe he was wrong, or maybe Koutarou could read him better than he could read himself. Tooru looks between the two of them briefly before saying softly, “I’m going to grab some drinks for all of us,” and excuses himself from the room.

“Are you okay?” Koutarou asks, grabbing Keiji’s hand, searching his face for something, anything.

He’s so close and it sends Keiji’s heart skyrocketing into his throat. He should say yes and move on. It’s stupid. It’s been so long. But Koutarou’s eyes are warm and honest and Keiji can’t bring himself to hide anymore. “I don’t like mistletoe.”

Koutarou blinks like he’s trying to understand and nods slowly. “Okay,” he says and then asks, more softly, “why?”

Keiji blows a long breath out of his nose and says, as evenly as he can, “because I saw my last boyfriend making out with someone under mistletoe at a Christmas party.”

“Oh,” Koutarou says.

Keiji nods. “Yeah, that’s what I said. With a few added expletives…”

“That’s…” Koutarou furrows his brow like he’s trying to put the pieces of a really complex math equation together but can’t figure out what he’s missing. He chews on his bottom lip, which Keiji does _not_ stare at, before looking up and saying, “why would anyone cheat on you? You’re perfect.”

Keiji’s face heats up so fast he’s worried he’s going to combust. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s squeezing Koutarou’s fingers until he lets go, takes a few steps back, and wraps his arms around himself in hopes of holding his pounding heart in place. “That’s… that’s a very kind thing to say.”

“It’s true!” Koutarou lurches forward and then stops himself when Keiji takes a step back.

“It’s not. Clearly not, or else my ex wouldn’t have gone off and hooked up with someone else in front of me.” If he was perfect Mika wouldn’t have left, his parents wouldn't have let him go. He shakes his head and doesn’t think about it too hard about it. He’s gone down those roads before, they don’t lead anywhere good. 

“Well,” Koutarou says and then takes a deep breath and announces loudly, “he was a dick!”

“That’s what Suga and I said,” Tooru says as he walks down the stairs, three glasses of water in hand. “But Keiji wouldn’t listen to us.”

Keiji hangs his head and takes a cup from Tooru gratefully. “That wasn’t my… best decision.”

Tooru shrugs. “He’s gone now.”

Koutarou takes a sip of water and then his attention snaps back to Keiji. “So that's why you don’t like Christmas.” 

“It’s not…” he glances to Tooru, who just raises a single eyebrow, and sighs. “It’s not _just_ that it’s… a lot of things. Between parents and shitty exes and failing classes, this time of year just…”

“Fucks you over?” Tooru supplies helpfully.

“It's just not for me,” Keiji shrugs and takes a sip of his water before setting the glass down. “So I try to just ignore it, hoping that it’ll suck less if I do. Now, let’s finish these decorations.”

They set the mistletoe aside and start setting up the last of the decorations from the box. After a while, Keiji ends up side-by-side with Koutarou, their arms brushing as they stick some more garland to the wall. “What about this year?” Koutarou asks surprisingly quietly.

“What about it?” Keiji asks but doesn't look over at him, even when he can feel Koutarou’s eyes on him. 

“Did this year suck?”

Keiji bites his tongue so that he doesn’t answer immediately and actually sits back on his heels to think about it. The first week was rough with finals and studying and all, but there were snowball fights and tree-light ceremonies, and hot chocolate, and even the shitty-eggnog had ended with them all gorging on pizza and laughed until they cried. It wasn’t all good, but it wasn’t terrible. “It could have been a lot worse,” Keiji finally says.

He doesn’t need to look over to know that Koutarou is smiling wildly but he does so anyway. 

* * *

“I’m fucked,” Keiji says into his hands after Koutarou leaves and Suga arrives with copious amounts of alcohol. “I’m so fucked.”

“Awww, you really like him, don’t you?” Tooru coos as he plops himself on one side of Keiji, throwing an arm over his shoulders. 

“I do,” Keiji croaks into his palms. “I really do. I told him about Mika and then he spent the rest of the afternoon complimenting me. Who does that?”

“You told me about Mika?” Suga says, wandering in from the kitchen. He sets himself down more gently on Keiji’s other side.

Keiji looks up from his hands. “Not in detail but… yeah. He asked and I just… I had to tell him, and then ugh…” Keiji's face ends up back in his hands. “I can’t do this.” Kill him now and get it over with, he’s never this gushy, never this… open. He feels vulnerable, even with Tooru and Suga on either side of him, like someone pried open his chest and left his heart exposed, and he hates it, except that he also never wants to the feeling to go away.

Suga rests a hand on his knee and gives his kneecap a playful squeeze which as Keiji flinching and look up to glare at his best friend. Suga smiles back. “You know what you should do…”

“Tell me!” Tooru says, too loudly into Keiji’s ear, and Keiji elbows him to try and get him to back up, but he doesn’t, just leans into Keiji more, resting his chin on Keiji’s shoulder. “You really like him, you should talk to him. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“He never wants to speak to me again,” Keiji mumbles.

“Keiji, he looks at you like you’re the best thing in the world and the only thing he wants for Christmas, I think he’ll talk to you after you confess to him. And we’ll both be here, right next to you for support-”

“-and to beat him up if need be,” Tooru adds, “though I don’t foresee that being necessary.”

As much as Keiji hates to admit it, they’re not wrong, there is some truth in their words. An even if Koutarou doesn’t reciprocate his feelings - though a small part of his wants to desperately to believe he does - it’s Koutaoru. He’s not going to be mean to Keiji or cut him off if he doesn't feel the same. It’ll be awkward but they’ll figure it out, they always do. A little bit of bravery, he can do that. 

Keiji lets out a breath and sits up. “Fine. Fine, I’ll do it I just…” Keiji stops, frozen, “don’t know _how_.” He’s never confessed to anyone, people have always come up to him. First girls in high school asking him to dances, then boys in clubs and college approaching him at parties wanting to hook up, even Mika was the first one to make a move. Keiji’s never had to do anything but be at the right place at the right time, but this… this had Keiji wanting to do something.

“We’ll help you,” Suga says, burying into Keiji’s other side. “We can come up with a plan, the three of us.”

“We’ll come up with the _best_ plan and land you the man of your dreams,” Tooru assures, and Keiji is a little bit comforted and sinks back into the couch with his two best friends to start plotting how he’s going to ask Koutarou out. And it’s not terrible, it’s not hard. He can do it.

He can do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left! I can't believe it. Happy Holidays all and stay safe!


	24. Tuesday, December 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the promised last chapter! I'm sorry I'm a day late, but I figured quality was more important than timeliness for this one.  
> Quick thank you to all of you who have read this far, it means a lot. And to those of you who left comments and Kudos, thank you! Your words and thoughts have honestly made so many of my days this month <3
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah for those of you who celebrate! And I hope all of you have had wonderful and safe holiday seasons. I know this time of year can be rough for people, but hopefully, this fic was about to bring some of you a little bit of joy :)
> 
> Thank you all so much, and I hope you like this last chapter!

“I can’t do it,” Keiji says, looking himself over in the mirror. He looks ridiculous, like absolutely ridiculous, like if he stood in a corner with this sweater on, people would mistake him for the Christmas tree upstairs in their apartment ridiculous. It’s green and tacky and the little snow-flakes on the sweater just make it worse, and it’s ever so slightly too big for him so he as to roll up the sleeves. Keiji looks up and meets Suga’s eyes in the mirror. “I look ridiculous.”

Suga places a hand on his shoulder and gives a firm squeeze. “It’s an ugly sweater party, you’ll blend right in.”

“ _You’re_ not wearing an ugly sweater.”

It’s true, Suga looks unfairly good in his Christmas sweater. It’s not a traditional sweater by any means, but it’s not ugly either, just very literary with reindeer pulling sleighs made out of books and more books and deer along the edges. And it hugs Suga in all the right places, and the deep green looks wonderful again his pale skin and silvery-blond hair, and it’s just not fair. Suga isn’t fair. 

Suga laughs and shakes his head. “I don’t do ugly sweaters.”

“Neither do I,” Keiji grumbles.

“But your boy does,” Suga says into his ear, his eyes gleaming with mirth when Keiji’s face turns as red as the ornaments hanging off his sweater. 

Keiji studies the ground, unable to meet Suga’s gaze or his own. “He’s not _my_ boy.”

“Not yet,” Suga says, all too proud and all too assured. “But he will be by the end of tonight. The Plan is ingenious and fool-proof.”

As long as Keiji is brave. They don’t say it, but they both know it’s true. He looks up and meets his own gaze in the mirror, and maybe Koutarou was right, maybe the sweater does bring out his eyes because they look larger and greener already. Or maybe that was the fear. It’s honestly hard to tell. 

Keiji takes a deep breath in and out, and then a second, and then a third. Before he can second guess himself, he turns around to face Suga, and says, “Let’s go.”

Suga cheers, grabs him by the arm, and pulls Keiji along to their basement.

* * *

There are certainly more people than Keiji expected as the party, but there are less than Tooru had said there would be. Still, the basement was a good idea. The music is loud, and so is the chatter, but it’s fun and bright and so filled with laughter Keiji’s slightly overwhelmed. Suga left him on his own a while ago to tend the bar with Daichi, who is in a dark green sweater with the words “Daddy Claus” over a doodle of Santa’s face. Suga might not do ugly sweaters, but apparently he has no shame in making Daichi wear them. Looking around, at least Keiji isn’t alone in the truly ugly sweater contest. In fact, his is mild compared to some of the other ones he’s seen pass by, so that’s one problem off his mind.

The problem that isn't off his mind is Koutarou, who he has yet to find. The worst part it, Keiji isn’t sure he wants to find him or not. If he finds Koutarou, that means phase one of The Plan commences, which is stick to Koutarou’s side like glue and flirt. Part one is fine, Keiji would hang out with Koutarou throughout the night if he was confessing or not. He likes spending time with Koutarou and he’s pretty sure Koutarou likes spending time with him as well. Part two is where things get complicated because Keiji has realized quite recently that he doesn’t know how to flirt. He’s sure that he’s done it in the past, but any memory of flirting is long gone. 

Suga had said to just go up to him, pull him aside and talk to him, but Tooru had been the one instant that Keiji needs to butter him up, warm his heart, and then talk to him. Keiji had agreed with Tooru, if only because that meant putting off the conversation even just a little. He realizes now that maybe that hadn’t been the best idea, but it’s too late, they have a Plan, and Keiji needs to find Koutarou, sooner as opposed to later.

He sips his drink, Suga had put his limit to one drink and one beer, and Keiji, knowing better than to argue with Suga, agreed, besides he wanted to be courageous, not drunk tonight. He needs his wits about him. He scans the crowd and finds Kenma in one of the dimmer corners alone and drinking what looks like a Lacroix but Keiji can’t be sure. He’s surprised that Tetsurou isn’t annoying Kenma and wanders over, settling beside him against the wall.

“Have you seen Koutarou?” he asks.

Kenma sips his drink - it’s definitely Lacroix - considers Keiji’s question for a moment, then says, “I think he went off with Kuro on another beer run. Nice sweater by the way.”

Keiji rolls his eyes and takes a moment to glance at Kenma’s sweater. It’s black with a game console stitched into it and “I Paused My Game to Be Here” written underneath. Keiji snorts and says, “At least mine’s festive.”

“Mines red and green,” Kenma mutters into his drink then eyes Keiji with a long and unreadable look. “What do you need Koutarou for?”

“Nothing,” Keiji says too quickly and looks away so he doesn’t have to see the moment when Kenma puts the pieces together. “I was just curious.”

Kenma hums and then says more softly, “so that’s The Plan Tooru was talking about.” And Keiji groans as Kenma continues “he didn’t say what the Plan was exactly, though it was pretty obvious considering if it involved you and Koutarou.”

“Please tell me he didn’t tell _everyone_.”

“Not everyone. He didn’t tell Koutarou.”

“Great.” That’s something at least.

A small elbow bumps into Keiji’s arm. When Keiji glances over he meets Kenma’s wide and intense gaze. “You’ll be fine,” Kenma says simply, easily, and some of the weight across Keiji’s chest lightens because Kenma doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean. “Also, they’re here.”

Keiji follows Kenma’s gaze across the basement and through the crowd. Sure enough Koutarou and Tetsurou are coming down the stairs, more packs of drink in hand. Koutarou meets Keiji’s gaze from across the room and his entire face lights up almost as brightly as Tetsurou’s bright red reindeer sweater with a literal glowing, red nose. 

“Have a good rest of your evening and Merry Christmas,” Keiji says, pushing off the wall.

Kenma nods. “Merry Christmas. If you need a break, I’ll probably be upstairs playing fire emblem.”

Keiji meets Kenma’s gaze one last time and gives him a grateful smile. Keiji has never been a fan of parties, he mostly puts up with them because Suga and Tooru love them, and once upon a time, his ex enjoyed them too. But meeting Kenma meant he had someone to hide in a corner with if everything got a little bit too much, but with Koutarou here, Keiji has a feeling he’ll be alright. He takes a step off the wall, takes a breath and starts weaving through the crowd. 

Smile and flirt, Tooru had made it sound so easy, but it is easy, isn't it? Or it was supposed to be, people do it all the time after all, but the closer he gets to Koutarou, the more it feels like the entirety of the English language has left his brain. 

Thankfully, it’s Koutarou so Keiji doesn’t need to say anything because as soon as he gets close enough Koutarou flings himself at him with a cry of “Keiji!” and a bone-crushing hug. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” Keiji replies, returning the hug as best as he can with one of his arms pinned to his side. 

Koutarou steps back and his eyes widen and his smile broadens if that’s even possible. “You’re wearing the sweater.”

Keiji looks down at himself as if he had forgotten about the ridiculous sweater Koutarou was referring to. When he looks out, Koutarou is watching him with a large, fond smile that has Keiji’s insides melting and his heart hammering, and what was part one of the plan again? Keiji can’t remember so he just stutters awkwardly, “Y-yeah… I am,” and smiles back.

They stay like that for a few long seconds, just smiling at one another, and Keiji knows he’s supposed to say something else but he just can’t think of what he’s supposed to say. Flirting! That’s what Tooru told him, but what his supposed to say? Before Keiji can open his mouth or even think of a reason to open his mouth, Koutarou launches into the story of his and Tetsurou’s adventure to get more booze, and that leads into another story about the rest of his day, and all possibilities for flirting are long forgotten.

The two of them move around the basement chatting amongst themselves and with other people. A few of Keiji’s coworkers from the coffee shop had come, and some of Koutarou’s friends from his major had appeared. It’s nice and fun and light-hearted, now that most people have a little bit of a buzz to them but aren’t too drunk, but despite that, Keiji finds himself growing more and more frustrated.

It isn’t like Koutarou is ignoring him. No, far from that. In fact, he hasn’t left Keiji’s side since his booze run with Tetsurou, but it’s not the same. There’s distance between them. Their arms brush against each other fewer times, and Koutarou leans out of Keiji’s space when Keiji leans into his. It’s almost like Koutarou is suddenly aware of the space around Keiji and is giving him that space, which is nice. It's thoughtful. Except that Keiji doesn’t want space, not tonight. In fact, he wants to the opposite of space.

What if he doesn’t actually like me? The thought is like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, or a handful of snow shoved down the back of his shirt. Oh god, what if Keiji had been reading the signals wrong this entire time… his face heats up at just the thought. But what about those fond smiles? And the consistent hangouts? And the laughter? And sweetness? It’s ridiculous, but he still isn’t sure. For every instance that says Koutarou likes him, there’s another instance that points to the opposite. Keiji’s head aches to try to sort through the two different trains of thought. It’s ridiculous at this point and The Plan is going nowhere.

Fuck the plan, is Keiji’s next thought. Just be straight forward, that’s what Suga said, and maybe he’s right. A little bit of bravery and Keiji can take this into his own hands because obviously Koutarou isn’t going to make a move - if he even _wants_ to. 

Keiji shakes his head, freeing himself of any thoughts, and waits for a lull in the conversation. It comes when Koutarou’s friends from math class - Keiji has already forgotten their names because he wasn’t paying attention and feels terrible about it, but he was having a crisis! - excuse themselves to get some more drinks. They wander off the bar to grab another beer and Keiji tugs at the sleeve of Koutarou’s sweater and moves him towards the far end of the basement where the music is a little quieter and there are fewer people

Keiji takes a breath and turns to Koutarou and his heart jumps into his throat. Had Koutaoru always had such beautiful golden eyes? 

“Keiji are you alright?” Koutarou asks, and then, when Keiji must make a face, explains, “You look worried. Is something on your mind?”

“I’m fine,” Keiji croaks, takes a breath, and tries again. “I’m alright I just… I wanted to…” he looks up and Koutarou is watching him with such kind and expectant eyes and damn it, what was Keiji saying again? “I just- I’ve had a really wonderful time these last few weeks. Thank you.” Koutarou’s smile softens and brightens, and Keiji swallows. “And I just wanted to say that I really like… I like…”

Koutarous eyes widen with understanding and Keiji’s heart pounds against his chest. Was this it? Did Koutarou _know_?

“You like Christmas?” Koutarou says with so much pure excitement that Keiji is torn between melting on the spot and throwing his head into the nearest wall. 

Keiji sighs. “Well…” Koutarou’s expression begins to dim and Keiji can’t have that so he continues quickly, “Well, yes, I guess. It hasn’t been terrible, but that’s… that isn’t what I wanted to say. I like…”

“The holidays?” Koutarou chimes in, his eyes are practically shining with joy, and yet Keiji wants nothing more than to fling himself into the sun and burn to a crisp. Had Koutarou always been this dense?

“I like _you_ ,” Keiji says, so intensely and strongly he probably sounds a little desperate, but he feels a little desperate so sue him.

Koutarou just stares at him, looking a bit puzzled and says, “good? I like you too?”

Keiji groans, and is about to throw in the towel, march upstairs and watch Kenma play fire emblem for the rest of the night when something catches his eye. On top of a pile of bins left in the corner is a partly-dried bundle of green leaves, wrapped together in a red, satin bow. Keiji takes a breath - desperate times call for desperate measures - and marches over to the crate, grabbing the bundle of mistletoe. He can feel Koutarou’s confused gaze on him his entire way back.

When he returns to Koutarou, he doesn’t think, just throws his hand above his and Koutarou’s heads, letting the mistletoe dangle above them and says, “Kiss me.” His face is burning, Keiji can feel it, but Koutarou’s face isn’t doing too much better. 

He watches Keiji with wide eyes and red cheeks and squeaks, “what?”

Keiji swallows, his arm is uncomfortable, but he keeps it there, gripping the mistletoe within an inch of its life. “Kiss me,” he says again, softer this time, less sure. “I mean… If you want. I’d like to kiss you, that’s what I mean when I said that I’d _like_ you, but if you don’t want to kiss me you don’t have to. I just-” 

His voice falters when large, warm hands settle on either side of his face and thumbs caress his cheekbones for a moment, and then Koutarou is close, and his eyes are golden until they’re not, because they slip closed, and then there are lips. Against Keiji’s own. A little bit dry, but soft nonetheless. They press against his own for a second, two, three, and then are gone, and Koutarou is blinking at him, and all Keiji can do is stare back.

“Was that okay?” Koutarou asks, and Keiji has never heard him speak so softly and tenderly or felt as taken care of as he does with Koutarou's hands on his face.

“Yes,” Keiji says as his brain catches back up to the present. He drops the mistletoe somewhere off to the side - he doesn’t know where, it doesn’t matter, he doesn't care - reaches forward, and pulls Koutarou back against him. His eyes slip closed when Koutarou’s lips meet his own and this time he leans into the kiss, parting his lips slightly, letting their breaths mingle. 

“Go Keiji!” The cheer echoes from the basement and Keiji jumps away. If his face wasn’t red before it certainly is now. Tooru stands at the edge of the crowd in his black "Ho" sweater, grinning from ear to ear. He looks much too proud of himself, and Keiji is going to kill him for it later. “Looks like The Plan worked?”

Koutarou looks from Keiji to Tooru and back to Keiji. “The Plan?”

Keiji drops his head into Koutarou’s shoulder, mumbling, “later” because he’s had enough humiliation for one day, and also because he doesn't want to have to leave Kutatarou's side to go and murder one of his best friends. 

With one last giggle and thumbs up, Tooru takes off into the crowd yelling for Suga. By the end of the hour, their entire guest list will know about the kiss, but Keiji isn’t too bothered by that. He’ll deal with those people tomorrow. He turns back to Koutarou, who’s still watching him with a mixture of shock and confusion. “So that was…” Keiji starts.

“Do you like me?” Koutarou asks, suddenly, wide-eyed and looking a little terrified. His hands slip to Keiji's shoulders and hold him there as if he's afraid Keiji will vanish into the cold, December night. 

Keiji sighs, but it’s nothing but fond, and cups Koutarou’s cheeks to hold his gaze. Koutarou practically melts under Keiji's touch. “Yes, I really, really do,” he Keiji softly and leans in for another kiss, which Koutarou returns readily, excitedly, and soon the two of them are laughing against one another without an inch of space between them 

"Merry Christmas, Keiji," Koutarou says into his neck, one the excitement settles some.

Keiji shivers against Koutarou and pulls him closer. "Merry Christmas." 

Maybe the holiday season isn’t too bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you curious, here are the rest of the ugly Christmas sweaters if only because I spent way too much time trying to find the perfect ones for the fic: [ Suga,](https://awesomelibrarians.com/collections/christmas/products/ugly-christmas-sweater-for-book-lovers?variant=97364639752) [Daichi,](https://thewholesaletshirts.com/shop/daddy-claus-ugly-christmas-sweater/) [Kenma,](https://apatee.com/collections/christmas/products/i-paused-my-game-to-be-here-ugly-christmas-sweater-shirt-sweatshirt?variant=18742244409401&utm_medium=cpc&utm_source=Google&utm_campaign=Google%20Shopping&gclid=Cj0KCQiArozwBRDOARIsAHo2s7slAr91D-wqLrym4ZYGXGmGAtvOGUHeBtrQnOcnbwdUnehRGDmFT-YaAmxMEALw_wcB) [Tetsurou,](https://www.etsy.com/listing/212756811/rudolph-light-up-ugly-christmas-sweater) [Tooru & Hajime](https://www.amazon.com/SR-Christmas-Holiday-Sweater-Shirt-XL-Santa/dp/B07K7G952N/ref=asc_df_B07K7G952N/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=316956080817&hvpos=1o2&hvnetw=g&hvrand=12815418306655057052&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9031328&hvtargid=pla-584781481610&psc=1)
> 
> Also, if you'd like to check out my [twitter](https://twitter.com/gabby_writes) feel free but I mostly post about my original works, not fics.
> 
> Thank you all again, this fic has been such a joy for me and I hope it's bee the same for you as well!! <3


End file.
